"
"It is like a great ruby--the rubies that the jewellers call 'pigeon's
blood.'"
"My father always said it should be blood-red," said Marietta. "But I
thought he meant something different, something more scarlet."
"I thought so, too. What they call pigeon's blood is not the colour of
blood at all. It is more like pomegranates, as you said at first. But
this is a marvellous thing. The master will be pleased."
Nella came and looked too, convinced that the glass had in some way
turned out more beautiful by the magic of her mistress's touch.
"It is a miracle!" cried the woman of the people. "Some saint must have
made this."
The glass glowed like a gem and seemed to give out light of its own. As
Zorzi and Marietta looked, its rich glow spread over their faces. It was
that rare glass which, from old cathedral windows, casts such a deep
stain upon the pavement that one would believe the marble itself must be
dyed with unchanging color.
"We have found it together," said Marietta.
Zorzi looked from the glass to her face, close by his, and their eyes
met for a moment in the strange glow and it was as if they knew each
other in another world.
"Do not let the red light fall on your faces," said Nella, crossing
herself. "It is too much like blood--good health to you," she added
quickly for fear of evil.
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