In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura.
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