All the simplicity of the Bürgenstock surroundings was gone. The flowers were in the greatest profusion, rare and heavy-scented; the pillows of the couch were more splendid than ever; cloths of gold and silver and wonderful shades of orange and green velvet were among the purple ones he already knew. Priceless pieces of brocade interwoven with gold covered the screens and other couches; and, near enough to pick up when she wanted them, stood jewelled boxes of cigarettes and bonbons, and stands of perfume. Her expression, too, was altered. A new mood shone there; and later, when Paul learnt the history of the wonderful women of _cinquecento_ Venice, it seemed as if something of their exotic voluptuous spirit now lived in her. This was a new queen to worship--and die for, if necessary. He dimly felt, even in these first moments, that here he would drink still deeper of the mysteries of life and passionate love. _"Beztzenny-moi,"_ she said, "my priceless one. At last I have you again to make me _live_. Ah! I must know it is really you, my Paul!" They were sitting on the tiger by now, and she undulated round and all over him, feeling his coat, and his face, and his hair, as a blind person might, till at last it seemed as if she were twined about him like a serpent. And every now and then a narrow shaft of the glorious dying sunlight would strike the great emerald on her forehead, and give forth sparks of vivid green which appeared reflected again in her eyes. Paul's head swam, he felt intoxicated with bliss. "This Venice is for you and me, my Paul," she said. "The air is full of love and dreams; we have left the slender moon behind us in Switzerland; here she is nearing her full, and the summer is upon us with all her richness and completeness--the spring of our love has passed." Her voice fell into its rhythmical cadence, as if she were whispering a prophecy inspired by some presence beyond. "We will drink deep of the cup of delight, my lover, and bathe in the wine of the gods. We shall feast on the tongues of nightingales, and rest on couches of flowers. And thou shalt cede me thy soul, beloved, and I will give thee mine--" But the rest was lost in the meeting of their lips. * * * * * They dined on the open loggia, its curtains drawn, hiding them from the view of the palaces opposite, but not preventing the soft sounds of the singers in the gondolas moored to the poles beneath from reaching their ears. And above the music now and then would come the faint splash of water, and the "Stahi"--"Premé" of some moving gondolier. The food was of the richest, beginning with strange fishes and quantities of _hors d'oeuvres_ that Paul knew not, accompanied by _vodka_ in several forms. And some of the _plats_ she would just taste, and some send instantly away.