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More and more painfully he shuffled, and Myra brooded over him as if he were hers, and there was a sad joy in doing this, a sad glory in leading him and sharing the cruel night with him. In this way they gained the corner of Sixth Avenue. Across the way loomed the illuminated tower-topped brick court-house. "Here it is," said Joe. Myra led him over, up the steps, and through the dingy entrance.
In front rose the tower-topped hill of Monte Giove, marking the site of Corioli; and just as they turned towards Nemi the Appian Way ran across their path. Overhead, a marvellous sky with scudding veils of white cloud. The blur and blight of the scirocco had vanished without rain, under a change of wind. An all-blessing, all-penetrating sun poured upon the stirring earth.
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