Three-Cornered Halo by Christianna Brand Page B

unseeing eyes at the stretched blue satin of the water-lilly pool. Beside him in its shallow glass, the hissing sparkle of the pink champagne died to an almost imperceptible seething: and, before the Grand Duke stirred again, was still.

CHAPTER FIVE

    A NEW crowd of people had arrived at the hotel that evening a ‘grouppa’ under the aegis of Odyssey Tours; a little late in the season, but specially arranged to include the Domenica di Boia and the Fiesta di San Juan. These are high days and holidays on the island and their customs, of great age and enormous interest to students, especially those of barbarity and pornography, naturally attract a large number of tourists. Miss Cockrill watched their arrival from her balcony. Tight-packed into carriages, they were drawn up from Barrequitas by horses not quite so enthusiastic as Mr Cecil’s had been earlier that afternoon and, now that the sun had gone down, no longer wearing hats, and descended with cries of rapture if only at the easing of their discomforts: amazed and enchanted, or condescendingly at home, according to whether or not they had ever before made so much as a day trip to the island. Winsome Foley came out of her room and joined Cousin Hat at the balcony rail.
    Winsome had had a Simply Wonderful day. She had been up to the Colombaia and had a long talk with Innocenta; and Innocenta was delighted with the work she had done on the translations. Innocenta herself had contributed several exercise books filled with her sharp, slanting script in purple ink and, said Winsome, too deliciously Quaint. She would have proceeded to quotation of some of the quaintnesses, but Cousin Hat said for goodness sake no, my dear, whimsey made her feel sick. So she turned away her head and counted up to ten and in a voice of gentle patience began again on a new tack. The house was enchanting inside (she had never before penetrated so far, having met Innocenta for the first time on almost the last day of her previous visit), and that too was deliciously Quaint. “You go in through a patio all covered with vines: and actually grapes, Cousin Hat, hanging down from the vines, so that you can just put up your hand and pick them. Isn’t that amazing?”
    â€œIt might be if they were anything but vines,” said Cousin Hat.
    And then on into a great cool room, went on Winsome doggedly, having counted another ten; all whitewashed and with frescoes on the walls.… (The frescoes had been rather curious, they would certainly have to be painted over if ever the place became a convenuto again. One of the daughters, she supposed, a talent that way; and one knew that to the artistic eye the Female Form Divine meant nothing at all, just nothing at all.…) “And there they all were, such charming creatures, though none of them takes after Innocenta one bit!—running in and out as she and I sat talking, begging—so prettily!—for a length of coloured thread, the loan of a needle, help with ironing a difficult frill.… Preparing for a party, I imagine, they all seemed to be freshening up their best dresses and there was a delicious smell from the kitchen; cheesecakes, Innocenta told me, ‘specialité de la maison’ at the moment, it appears! I didn’t enquire too closely in case they should think I was hinting for an invitation. But it was a charming scene!”
    â€œIt sounds delightful,” said Cousin Hat, bored to tears with it.
    â€œSo I tactfully stole away when I thought they would be wanting to get the room ready for the dancing; and went up to the Duomo and put up my little candle in Juanita’s chapel; and said my little prayer.…”
    â€œHow is Juanita looking? Has she got any blacker?”
    â€œThe continental habit of embalming the bodies of their saints——” began Winsome, having counted yet another ten.
    â€œâ€”and dressing them up in mauve satin, is quite revolting. And what I want