she appeared a small, slender shape, clad only; in white and without an ornament. As he sighted her, she descried him. She gestured to her maids and they seated themselves upon a marble bench on the upper terrace, already in the sunshine. Against a tangle of jasmine their blue veils showed plain, and their golden noserings waggled redly in the dawn-rays. Their bench was twice or even three times out of earshot.
And down the marble steps from the first to the second terrace, down the steps to the garden, past the Tritenesses' fountain, Thessa came. Even in the shadows her hair shone more golden than the aureole of any of the sun-gilded statues, her fluttering robe shone more pearly, more silvery than the halo about any one of the statues of marble, her teeth were whiter than the whitest of the dewy flowers, her lips redder than the reddest blooms, her eyes bluer than the bluest blossoms, her smile brighter than the sun itself. For she smiled as she came, she held out her hands to him.
As his arms embraced her hers wound close about his neck, as he kissed her so she kissed him. Almost a princess as she was she was utterly queenly to her lover and her handmaids, all generosity without reserve, all unconsciousness without reflection.
When they had greeted each other Thessa
