r in this profound retreat to prove the perfect
harmony of earth with sun.

And now, growing accustomed to the pervading silence, Domini began to
hear the tiny sounds that broke it. They came from the trees and
plants. The airs were always astir, helping the soft designs of Nature,
loosening a leaf from its stem and bearing it to the sand, striking a
berry from its place and causing it to drop at Domini's feet, giving a
faded geranium petal the courage to leave its more vivid companions
and resign itself to the loss of the place it could no longer fill with
beauty. Very delicate was the touch of the dying upon the yellow sand.
It increased the sense of pervading mystery and made Domini more deeply
conscious of the pulsing life of the garden.

"There is the room of the little dog," said Smain.

They had come out into a small open space, over which an immense
cocoanut tree presided. Low box hedges ran round two squares of grass
which were shadowed by date palms heavy with yellow fruit, and beneath
some leaning mulberry trees Domini saw a tiny white room with two glass
windows down to the ground. She went up to it and peeped in, smiling.

There, in a formal salon, with gilt chairs, oval, polished tables, faded
rugs and shining mirrors, sat a purple china dog with his tail curled
over his back sternly staring into vacancy. His expression and his
attitude were autocratic and determined, betokening a tyrannical nature,
and Domini peeped at him with precaution, holding herself very still
lest he should become aware of her presence and resent it.

"Monsieur the Count paid much money for the dog," murmured Smain. "He is
very valuable."

"How long has he been there?"

"For many years. He was there when I was born, and I have been married
twice and divorced twice."

Domini turned from the window and looked at Smain with astonishment. He
was smelling his rose like a dreamy child.

"You have been divorced twice?"

"Yes. Now I will show Madame the smoking-room."

They followed another of the innumerable alleys of the garden. This one
was very narrow and less densely roofed with trees than those they had
already traversed. Tall shrubs bent forward on either side of it, and
their small leaves almost meeting, were transformed by the radiant
sunbeams into tongues of pale fire, quivering, well nigh transparent.
As she approached them Domini could not resist the fancy that they would
burn her. A brown butterfly flitted forward