He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. On the north stood the battlements of one of the towers of the gate.
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