"We are going to Paris," Christina interposed, slowly and softly.
"We are going to London. We are going to Vienna. We are going to St.
Petersburg."
Prince Casamassima dropped his eyes and fretted the earth with the point
of his umbrella. While he engaged Rowland's attention Christina turned
away. When Rowland glanced at her again he saw a change pass over her
face; she was observing something that was concealed from his own eyes
by the angle of the church-wall. In a moment Roderick stepped into
sight.
He stopped short, astonished; his face and figure were jaded, his
garments dusty. He looked at Christina from head to foot, and then,
slowly, his cheek flushed and his eye expanded. Christina returned his
gaze, and for some moments there was a singular silence. "You don't look
well!" Christina said at last.
Roderick answered nothing; he only looked and looked, as if she had been
a statue. "You are no less beautiful!" he presently cried.
She turned away with a smile, and stood a while gazing down the valley;
Roderick stared at Prince Casamassima. Christina then put out her hand
to Rowland.
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