Читать книгу A Son of Ishmael. A Novel онлайн

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“A penny for your thoughts,” he said.

“I was trying to pinch myself,” she said.

She looked up and saw that D’Escourt had left them. “I was trying to pinch myself,” she continued, “to find out whether I was really in a dream or not.”

“You are not in a dream; at least, if you are, I am in it too; and I vote we stay in dream-land, for it is monstrous pleasant,” said Adrian. “Now listen to that music, Nance; does it not uplift your soul?”

She turned and looked vaguely at the performers on the stage. The opera was one of Rossini’s; the scene now represented was a harvest festival; the stage was full of motion and brilliant colour; the gay, light, uplifting music rose to the very roof of the magnificent opera house.

“It is almost too much,” said Nance, with something like a sob in her throat. She looked suddenly so white and weary that Rowton insisted on her returning to the hotel without seeing the piece out.

The next day, to her astonishment, he proposed that they should leave Paris and go on to the Riviera.