Wood turned to look at him. “It is so difficult,” she murmured, “so impossible to explain. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. ” “Yes. ‘You should be. 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. Brendon dismissed the subject with a wave of the hand.
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