In the dress shop, the look on the woman's face! The serving girl screaming. And the young man, the poor young man who had looked down and seen the bone!
Ye gods, what have you done to me!
She turned, staggering away from the light, but it was all around her. The mirror was ablaze. She went down on her knees, her hands on the warm green rug. She lay down, tossing, turning, trying to push away the fierce power that penetrated her brain; that penetrated her heart. A great pulsing vibration had caught her entire form. She floated in space. And finally lay still in the great vibrating drift, the hot light blanketing her skin, an orange fire against her eyelids.
Elliott sat alone on the deep veranda. The empty bottle sparkled in the light of the morning sun. He dozed as he lay against the cushioned back of the chair, mind now and then wandering. Fasting, drinking, the long sleepless night, all had sharpened him and left him slightly mad; it seemed the light itself was a miracle streaking the sky; it seemed the great glossy silver car rumbling up the drive was a joke of sorts; and so was the funny grey-haired man who climbed down off the high seat and came towards him.
"I've been with Winthrop all night."
"You have my sympathies."
"Old man, we have an appointment at ten-thirty to clear everything up. Can you manage it?"
"Yes. I shall manage it. You may depend upon me. And Ramsey can be there if ... if ... you've obtained full immunity."
"Full and complete as long as he'll sign a sworn statement against Stratford. You know of course he struck again last night, robbed a shop--woman was in there with a full drawer of cash. He took everything."
"Hmmmmm. Bastard," Elliott whispered.
"Old man, it's very important you get up out of this chair, have a good bath and a good shave and be there...."
"Gerald, on my word. I shall. Ten-thirty, the governor's palace."
Blessed quiet. The ugly car had gone away. The boy came again. "Breakfast, my lord?"
"Bring a little something, and some orange juice with it. And ring my son's room again. And check the desk. Surely he's left a message!"
It was late morning before her young lord finally awoke.
Rome had fallen. And two thousand years had passed.
For hours she'd sat at the window, dressed in a "fine blue frock," watching the modern city. All the bits and pieces of what she'd seen and heard were now a complete tapestry. Yet there was so much to know, to understand.
She'd feasted, and had the servants take away the evidence; she did not want anyone to see the bestial manner in which she'd consumed so much food.
Now his small banquet waited for him. And when he came towards her out of the bedroom, "So beautiful," she said under her breath.
"What is it, Your Highness?" He bent to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his naked chest.
"Take your breakfast, young lord," she said. "There are so many things I must discover. So many things I must see."
He seated himself at the small draped table. He lighted the candles with the "matches."
"Aren't you joining me?"
"I've already feasted, my love. Can you show me the modern city? Can you show me the palaces of the British who rule this land?"
"I'll show you everything, Your Highness," he said, with the same unguarded gentleness.
She sat across from him.
"You're very simply the strangest person I've ever met," he said, and again there was no mockery or meanness in it. "In fact, you remind me of someone I know, a very enigmatic man ... but that doesn't matter. Why are you smiling at me like that? What are you thinking?"
"So beautiful," she whispered again. "You and all of life, my young lord. It is everything and nothing. So beautiful."
He blushed like a girl and then laid down the silver tools and leaned across the
table and once again kissed her.