y and romance"
"Angela was enchanted with the peninsula of Monterey"
"They weren't trees, but people, either nymphs or witches"
"The world was a sea, billowing with mountains"
PROLOGUE
On a great ship a woman sailed away from the Old World, wishing to forget.
In her mind was the thought of a far-off place toward which she was
travelling. There were no figures in this mental picture. She painted it
as a mere flowery background; for she was very tired of people.
In the New World, a man lived and worked, and dreamed--when he had time.
Between this woman and this man lay six thousand miles of land and sea.
They were two, among many millions, and they did not know of each other's
existence. There was no visible reason why they ever should know, or why
they should ever meet. Yet, sometimes when the moon shone on the sea, the
woman said to herself that the bright path paving the water with gold
seemed to lead on and on beyond the horizon, as if it might go all the way
to the Golden Gate. And the Golden Gate is the Port of Adventure, where
every unexpected thing can happen.
I
IN A GARDEN
"I wonder what makes Nick so late?" Carmen Gaylor thought, hovering in the
doorway between the dim, cool hall and the huge veranda that was like an
out-of-doors drawing-room.
Though she spoke English well--almost as well as if she had not been born
in Spain and made her greatest successes in the City of Mexico--Carmen
thought in Spanish, for her heart was Spanish, and her beauty too.
She was always handsome, but she was beautiful as she came out into the
sunset gold which seemed meant for her, as stage lights are turned on for
the heroine of a play; and there was something about Carmen which
suggested strong drama. Even the setting in which she framed herself was
like an ideal scene for a first act.
The house was not very old, and not really Spanish, but it had been
designed by an architect who knew Carmen, with the purpose of giving a
Spanish effect. He had known exactly the sort of background to suit her, a
background as expensive as picturesque; a millionaire husband had paid for
it. There were many verandas and pergolas, but this immense out-of-doors
room had wide archways instead of pillars, curtained with white and purple
passion flowers; and the creamy stucco of the house-wall, and the ruddy
Spanish tiles, which already looked mellow with age, were half hidden with
climbing roses and grapevines.
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