But from then until it was time to dress for dinner his lady decreed that they should rest in their rooms.
"Thou must sleep, my Paul," she said, "so that thy spirit may be fresh for new joys."
And it was only after hard pleading she would allow him to have it that they rested on the other loggia couches, so that his closing eyes might know her near.
No Englishwoman would have thought of the details which made the Feast of the Full Moon so wonderful in Paul's eyes. It savoured rather of other centuries and the days of Imperial Rome, and indeed, had his lady been one of Britain's daughters, he too might have found it a little _bizarre_. As it was, it was all in the note--the exotic note of Venice and her spells.
The lady had gone to her room when he woke on the loggia, and he had only time to dress before the appointed moment when he was to meet her in the little salon.
She was seated on the old Venetian chair she had bought in Lucerne when Paul entered--the most radiant vision he had yet seen. Her garment was pale-green gauze. It seemed to cling in misty folds round her exquisite shape; it was clasped with pearls; the most magnificent ones hung in a row round her throat and fell from her ears. A diadem confined her glorious hair, which descended in the two long strands twisted with chains of emeralds and diamonds. Her whole personality seemed breathing magnificence and panther-like grace. And her eyes glowed with passion, and mystery, and force.
Paul knelt like a courtier, and kissed her hand. Then he led her to their feast.
Dmitry raised the curtain of the loggia door as they approached, and what a sight met Paul's view!
The whole place had been converted into a bower of roses. The walls were entirely covered with them. A great couch of deepest red ones was at one side, fixed in such masses as to be quite resisting and firm. From the roof chains of roses hung, concealing small lights--while from above the screen of lilac-bushes in full bloom the moon in all her glory mingled with the rose-shaded lamps and cast a glamour and unreality over the whole.
The dinner was laid on a table in the centre, and the table was covered with tuberoses and stephanotis, surrounding the cupid fountain of perfume. The scent of all these flowers! And the warm summer night! No wonder Paul's senses quivered with exaltation. No wonder his head swam.