But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. Then he did give way a bit. 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. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile.
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