Venice dropped lower and lower, breasting the waters, until it was a thin line in air.

The line was broken, and ran in dots, with here and there a pillar standing on opal sky.

At last the topmost campanile sank.
Renee looked up at the sails, and back for the submerged city.
'It is gone!' she said, as though a marvel had been worked; and swiftly: 'we have one night!' She breathed it half like a question, like a petition, catching her breath.

The adieu to Venice was her assurance of liberty, but Venice hidden rolled on her the sense of the return and plucked shrewdly at her tether of bondage.
They set their eyes toward the dark gulf ahead.

The night was growing starry.