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 windows, into the velvet shadow of a bridge, then out again to slip beside the waterworn steps of some palace invisible in the gloom. Then suddenly it swung into open water, and there, swimming with light, was the Piazzetta, the water before it molten gold with reflections, the air vibrant with distant music and the clatter of the happy crowd.

The gondola left the sheltered water and headed into the wide darkness, where a myriad distant lights danced on the anchored vessels. Farther and farther away gleamed Venice, like a great luminous procession of tapers across the water; fainter and more faint grew the snatches of music from the Piazza.

Fen was almost asleep when the gondola slid up beside the yacht; but as Siddereticus lifted him, he whispered:

"How do you say 'thank you' to him and tell him how much you liked it?"