She would have given anything to look out and see him cross and come nearer, but she remembered that she was not yet dressed, and she blushed as she drew further back into the room, gathering the thin white linen up to her throat, and frightened at the mere thought that he should catch sight of her.

She would not call her serving-woman yet, she would be alone a little while longer.

She threw back her russet hair, and bent down to smell the rose in the tall glass.
The sun was risen now and the first slanting beams shot sideways through her window from the right.

The day that was to be so sweet had begun most sweetly.

She had seen him already, far earlier than usual; she would see him many times before the little brown maid crossed the canal to bring her home in the evening.
The thought put an end to her meditations, and she was suddenly in haste to be dressed, to be out of the house, to be sitting in the little garden of the glass-house where Zorzi must soon pass again.