It was like a glimpse of paradise, and when I reached my
palace I was loath to leave the gondola, for I really felt as though I
could glide along in that way through all eternity."
"You lived in a palace in Venice?" I asked, somewhat amused at the
magnificence of this imaginary tour.
"Certainly. Why not?" he replied. "I could not bring myself to staying in
a hotel, Phil, in Venice. Venice is of a past age, when hotels were not,
and to be thoroughly _en rapport_ with my surroundings, I took up my abode
in a palace, as I have said. It was on one of the side streets, to be
sure, but it was yet a palace, and a beautiful one. And that street! It
was a rivulet of beauty, in which could be seen myriads of golden-hued
fish at play, which as the gondola passed to and fro would flirt into
hiding until the intruder had passed out of sight in the Grand Canal,
after which they would come slowly back again to render the silver waters
almost golden with their brilliance."
"Weren't you rather extravagant, Tom?" I asked.
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