DAPHNE
little girl," he said. "But it is not half so long nor so hard as the one I expected to climb to find you."
"You are tired!" said Daphne anxiously. "Rest."
Bertuccio was sleeping on his flat rock; San Pietro lay down for a brief, ascetic slumber. The lovers sat side by side, with the mystery of beauty about them: the purple and gold of nearness and distance; bright color of green grass near, sombre tint of cypress and stone pine afar.
"I shall never really know whether you are a god or not," said Daphne dreamily.
"A very proper attitude for a woman to have toward her husband," he answered with a smile. "I must try hard to live up to the character. You will want to live on Olympus, and you really ought, if you are going to wear gowns woven of my sunbeams like the one you had on yesterday. How shall I convince you
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