Giovanni was silent for a moment.

The two stood together and looked far out at the purple mountains to eastward that caught the last rays of the sun high up above the shadows of the valley; and then looking down, they saw the Prince and the Sister a hundred feet below them upon the rampart.
Both were thinking of the same thing: three days ago, their meeting had seemed infinitely far off, a thing dreamed of and hoped for--and now they were standing alone upon the topmost turret of Giovanni's house, familiar with each other by a long day's conversation, feeling as though they had never been parted, feeling also that most certainly they would not be parted again.
"It is very strange," said Giovanni, "how things happen in this world, and how little we ever know of what is before us.

Last week I wondered whether I should ever see you--now I cannot imagine not seeing you.

Is it not strange ?" "Yes," answered Corona, in a low voice.
"That, yesterday, we should have seemed parted by an insurmountable barrier, and that to-day--" he stopped.

"Oh, if to-day could only last for ever!" he exclaimed, suddenly.
Corona gazed out upon the purple hills in silence, but her face caught some of the radiance of the distant glow, and her dark eyes had strange lights in them.