Chapter SevenTempera walked through the gardens of the Villa Caravargio in Rome, moving between the exquisite statuary posed against the cypress trees.
She was wearing a gown of deep blue chiffon which might have stepped from the pictures of a master painter and which toned in with the flowers which grew in profusion over the stone balustrade and round the plinths of the statues.
It was the moment when the sun was going down and a golden light hovered above Rome and at the same time seeming to rise from it.
As she reached the part of the garden from which there was one of the finest views in all the world, she would see below her the whole City laid out like a child’s toy. The Dome of St. Peter’s was silhouetted against the golden sky.
Gradually an upsurge of red light spread in the we
