Her Sicilian and his tarantella, the tarantella of his joy in
Sicily--they had gone away into the blue.
She looked at it, deep, quivering, passionate, intense; thousands and
thousands of miles of blue! And she listened as she looked; listened for
some far-off tarantella, for some echo of a fainting tarantella, that
might be a message to her, a message left on the sweet air of the
enchanted island, telling her where the winged feet of her beloved one
mounted towards the sun.