"What an inspiration," she told Justine. "The owner is a friend of Guido's. The hotel hasn't been open long, and he needs all the work he can get."

Justine was amused when Guido turned his charm on Liza, putting his hands together imploringly. At last the old woman smiled and gave him a light slap, clearly telling him to stop his nonsense. Guido grinned and leapt for the telephone.

A swift conversation in Venetian ensued, after which Guido said, "He's coming over after dinner, before Liza changes her mind. Hey, Justine, fancy you thinking of the Busoni!"

"It's the only Venice hotel I know," she said quickly.

Over dinner she had the chance to observe the count and Liza when they weren't squabbling and had to admit that they made a charming couple. The handsome man was so dotingly in love with the plain woman that Justine's cynicism took a knock.

But she settled it back into place, reminding herself that she didn't believe in eternal love. She couldn't afford to believe in it.

They had coffee in the garden overlooking the Grand Canal, with a clear view of the floodlit Rialto Bridge. Justine fixed her eyes on it, concentrating on the beauty so that she didn't have to think too closely about what she had just done.

What had possessed her to suggest the Busoni? Who said that Riccardo would be making the hotel's deliveries anyway? And what did she care whether he did or not?

"He's here," Guido said, jumping up and heading toward the building, from which a figure was just emerging.

"Riccardo!" Guido yelled.

"Justine," Dulcie said excitedly, "isn't that the same man who -?"

"Yes," Justine murmured. "It is."

The light and shadow contrasts of the moonlit garden emphasized everything about him that had made an impact on her. He was just as she remembered, but more so.

"Justine," Guido said eagerly, "do you remember this guy from the journey yesterday?"