"Don't be capricious, Anne darling. You know I'm no preacher. And you would look adorable attired in white linen knickerbockers, riding on the back of a donkey----" "Supporting a heavy white umbrella with one hand, and brushing off a horde of cannibalistic flies with the other--so restful and inspiring!" Anne blew smoke rings into his eager, dark face. "There are no flies in winter, and where I've been working it is sometimes very cold. The white umbrella would be entirely unnecessary. My villa is an antique dream of old-rose marble and its terrace and garden seem to sweep right out into the ardent blue of the sea." "What about modern improvements?" inquired Anne flippantly. But at his description her pupils had expanded, her whole face had taken on a softer, more rested, expression. "There is a bath," he replied simply. "But of course no electricity. Hanging lamps and an army of candles shed a soft benediction over the old walls. I promise you, you will be very comfortable. It is a foolish gardener who transplants an exotic into the soil of unprotected fields." He leaned forward earnestly. Her eyes cloudy with feeling, she laid her hand upon his. "You are so adorably literal, Vittorio. Such a boy in spite of all your experience! Any woman who couldn't trust herself to go with you to the ends of the earth, would be a blind fool." "Then you will make up your mind? You will come?" he cried eagerly. She shook her head with a maternal smile. "Who knows, Vittorio? My emotions seem to be as unstable as the weather. I'm about as reliable as a will-o'-the-wisp. Better place your allegiance elsewhere, dear friend. I have kept you waiting too long already." He rose to his feet and stood over her vehemently. "Never, never. There's no woman who can compare with you, bellissima donna. And if there is, I do not want her!" Anne's eyes twinkled. "How about the statuesque Ellen? One doesn't shed turquoise necklaces for nothing." He blushed like a guilty school boy. "Were you jealous, Anne?" His eyes were uncontrollably eager. "Perhaps a little. If it would please you, Vittorio?" she teased. He threw back his head, laughing ruefully. "It is impossible to get the better of you. I retire defeated, as usual." He pointed with an expressive forefinger at the clock. "I imagine Regina is fuming outside in the corridor, waiting to slip some new magnificence upon you, to dazzle us all with to-night. But she cannot improve upon perfection." Indicating the claret velvet with a quick gesture, he bent over her hand and kissed it lightly. As the door closed behind him, Anne's smile faded. She dropped back onto the chaise-longue and closed her eyes.