Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume XI).djvu/134

Rh long, elegant tail of the letter G, the first letter of her name, which stood at the bottom of the sheet, reminded him of her lovely fingers, her hand. He thought that he had not once touched that hand with his lips. 'Italian women,' he mused, 'in spite of what's said of them, are modest and severe. And Gemma above all! Queen goddess  pure, virginal marble.'

'But the time will come; and it is not far off.' There was that night in Frankfort one happy man. He slept; but he might have said of himself in the words of the poet:

And it fluttered as lightly as a butterfly flutters his wings, as he stoops over the flowers in the summer sunshine.

five o'clock Sanin woke up, at six he was dressed, at half-past six he was walking up and down the public garden within sight of the little arbour which Gemma had mentioned in her note. It was a still, warm, grey morning. It sometimes seemed as though it were beginning to rain; but the outstretched hand felt nothing, and only looking at one's coat-sleeve,