Venus flamed a lambent disk of pale saffron, low over the horizon.
From edge to edge of the world marched the constellations, like the progress of emperors, and from the innumerable glory of their courses a mysterious sheen of diaphanous light disengaged itself, expanding over all the earth, serene, infinite, majestic.
The little garden revealed itself but dimly beneath the brooding light, only half emerging from the shadow.

The polished surfaces of the leaves of the pear trees winked faintly back the reflected light as the trees just stirred in the uncertain breeze.

A blurred shield of silver marked the ripples of the fountain.

Under the flood of dull blue lustre, the gravelled walks lay vague amid the grasses, like webs of white satin on the bed of a lake.

Against the eastern wall the headstones of the graves, an indistinct procession of grey cowls ranged themselves.
Vanamee crossed the garden, pausing to kiss the turf upon Angele's grave.