CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. “I was already aware of the fact. The dark and desperate thoughts that were passing through his mind at this time will presently be shown. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. This is not honourable.
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