I will postpone my happiness until we are in the garden." "I thought so," she answered; "but look now, you must play the part, or I shall suffer, who am bearing much for you." "I think that I may suffer also," he murmured, but not so low that she did not catch his words.
"No, friend Pedro," she said, turning on him, "it is the woman who suffers in this kind of farce.

She pays; the man rides away to play another," and without more ado she opened the door, which proved to be unlocked and unguarded.
Beyond the foot of some steps lay a most lovely garden.

Great, tapering cypresses grew about it, with many orange-trees and flowering shrubs that filled the soft, southern air with odours.

Also there were marble fountains into which water splashed from the mouths of carven lions, and here and there arbours with stone seats, whereon were laid soft cushions of many colours.

It was a veritable place of Eastern delight and dreams, such as Peter had never known before he looked upon it on that languorous eve--he who had not seen the sky or flowers for so many weary weeks of sickness.