Page:In a winter city, by Ouida.djvu/249

 "How naturally you think of buying all you see!" he said, a little impatiently. "I suppose that power of acquisition—that wand of possession—is very dear to you."

"What do you mean? I do not know—it is a habit. Yes; I suppose one likes it."

"No doubt. Your riches are to you as his magic was to San Cipriano yonder: the willingest of slaves."

"What!—an evil, spirit then?"

"Not necessarily. But"

"But what?"

"A despot, though a slave. One who holds your soul; as the powers of darkness held his, until a great and spiritual love set him free."

They were passing out of the open doorway into the calm golden light of the passing day. Through the fin§ tracery of the olive-boughs the beautiful valley shone like a summer sea. Before them, above the southern mountains, the sun was going down. Her eyes grew dim for a moment as she looked. His hand had closed on hers; she let it lie within his clasp; it was the first gesture of tenderness she had ever allowed