” There was a shout of laughter. I’m so glad you’re not angry. 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. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. “No man can realize,” she said, “what that pit can be. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling.
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