His unblinking eyes did not leave his quarry, his muscles kept their quiver of preparation. At the end of his sleek body, touching the path, his long tail swept, to and fro, to and fro, to and fro, like a furry pendulum marking off the dread time.
By now other inmates of the garden were alarmed. A blue jay scolded from the terra-cotta roof of the chapel From the cross-piece of the tree a line of sparrows gave over their squabbling to look down.
Loretta’s excitement grew wilder. Out of her beak poured phrases not of mass or military, not of good-days or–nights. For under the gold of Ophir the furry pendulum was standing out straight and the moving muscles down Tomasso’s
