The Bozeman courier., 1927-11-18

bridged waterways, that Alec told her
how he had been half afraid to come to
Venice for fear it would shatter his ro-
mantle ideal. He laughed bit sheep
ishly at the admission and suddenly
looking up, meeting Julia's eyes, he
stopped short.
'You needn't be ashamed Of it, Alec"
said Julia softly. ITALY enchants all Of
us with its loveliness-at times"
Loveliness-Good Lord!" cried Alec
Farraday. Tits more than that. It's
the spirit Of romance"
Romance isn't everything" said
Julia slowly.
'But you love it, don't youP" he went
on. you wouldn't go back, would you?"
mo-" said Julia, 'no-of course not. I
couldn't go back" A little caught laugh,
half a sob, echoed in her throat. There
was a sudden turn-a sweep between
great walls, a darkening. Julia pointed
upward. mot all romance here, either,
Alec. The Bridge Of Sighs."
And then in breath almost they
were out into the lagoon, moving toward
the lighted landing Of the Piazetta.
On Thursday evening that was.
And on Saturday morning Julia car
ried her fan with the carved ivory han
die to little shop behind the Arcades
| This, to stay in Venice a few days long
er-to spin out the enchantment of a
few more ever to be remembered hours
She wanted to carry back to the dark
little Pension Camarini a store Of love
illness to last through the years. You
may smile If you wish. Julia herself
smiled at the Stiffness, the sfoolishnesS
in woman past thirty-a woman, as she
told herself, forever done with the sweet
things of life. But for few more hours
! Oh-She didn't try to deceive herself
She faced the truth boldly. There were
some things as certain as death-anC
one Of them was the inevitable goinl
back to the Pension Camarini-the safI
retreat. For supposing anything-eve1
that the hours were as precious to hin
as they were to her-what was there Il
higher and stronger than ever. The wal
of her pride. She was the Countess Dan
zietti. Daily he marveled that she coulI
spare the time from her friends and peo
pie to devote to him. And with pitifu
bravery she led him to believe that ther
were friends and gaiety. Less terribl
that aching little hold on her pride thai
to have him sorry for her. Sorry 70
Julia Sloanl Sorry for the Counties
DanziettiI
And then on Saturday evening acros
the silver lit table Of their first Dime
) eyes, listening to his laughter, to the wa
: he spoke her name, she was suddenly
. unreasonably, on the verge Of tears. Q
course 1t was silly, but she could thin
only Of her desire to rush of-to leav
it all to get back to the safe retreat Al
; at once the poverty, the makeshift, tn
: pretense Of lifetime seemed less painful
\ less likely to tear her heart into shred
!. than the pitiful spinning out Of thes
!, few last hours Of borrowed happines
Her throat ached with the lonely sweet
ness OF the soft music drifting U
through the purple dark.
4 Nights, blue black nights, sitting {
: her window overlooking the Arno, sk
Z knew she would hear the echo Of thei
q songs. Now II was, as If the whole pei
e flmed, heavy music laden air W,
: charged with q strange semt-barbar
passion Of longing and Illustration. An
: somehow she went on making preteni
" Of eating, Of enjoying food, OF being ga
J. She even offered q patter OF small tal
! about trivial things until, glancing u
4 she was stopped by the look In Alec Fa
q raday's eyes.
, He put down his coffee slowly. exc
: know" he said, 81 hate to think Of
but ought to be getting back to Paris
! 'Then," said Julia steadily, y wor