Only first--one must really pay one's respects to this sunset.' And she stepped out through an open door upon a balcony beyond.

Then turning, with a face of delight, she beckoned to Manisty, who followed.
'Every night more marvellous than the last'-- she said, hanging over the balustrade--'and one seems to be here in the high box of a theatre, with the sun playing pageants for our particular benefit.' Before them, beneath them indeed, stretched a scene, majestic, incomparable.

The old villa in which they stood was built high on the ridge of the Alban Hills.

Below it, olive-grounds and vineyards, plough-lands and pine plantations sank, slope after slope, fold after fold, to the Campagna.
And beyond the Campagna, along the whole shining line of the west, the sea met the sunset; while to the north, a dim and scattered whiteness rising from the plain--was Rome.
The sunset was rushing to its height through every possible phase of violence and splendour.

From the Mediterranean, storm-clouds were rising fast to the assault and conquest of the upper sky, which still above the hills shone blue and tranquil.