And round
about the doe she grouped the children of the king, Cinderellas, fairy
queens, magicians, monsters--all the familiar personages of those
imaginary realms, crowding them in tumultuously with the kaleidoscopic
rapidity of a dream. Her prattle sounded like the warbling of a bird;
full of sweet modulations, with now and then a rapid succession of
melodious notes that were not words,--a continuation of the wave of
music already set in motion, like the vibrations of a string during a
pause--when in the childish mind, the connection between the idea and
its verbal expression met with a momentary interruption.
The other two neither spoke nor listened. To them the little girl's
bird-like twittering covered the murmur of their own thoughts, and if
Delfina stopped for a moment's breathing space, they felt as strangely
perturbed and apprehensive as if the silence might disclose or lay bare
their souls.
The avenue of the Hundred Fountains stretched away before them in
diminishing perspective; a peacock, perched upon one of the shields,
took flight at their approach, scattering the rose leaves into a
fountain below. A few steps further on, Andrea recognised the one beside
which Donna Maria had stood, and listened to the music of the waters.
In the retreat of the Hermes the smell of musk had evaporated. The
statue, all pensive under its garland, was flecked with patches of
sunshine which filtered through the surrounding foliage.
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