To her it was a different scene, of some
southern country, because she seemed to see vineyards, and high-walled
lanes, hill-crests crowded with houses and crowned with churches, such
as one sees at a distance in the Campagna, where the plain breaks into
chestnut-clad hills. But this difference of sight did not make me feel
that the scene was in any degree unreal; it was the idea of the
landscape which we loved, its pretty associations and familiar features,
and the mind did the rest, translating it all into a vision of scenes
which had given us joy on earth, just as we do in dreams when we are in
the body, when the sleeping mind creates sights which give us pleasure,
and yet we have no knowledge that we are ourselves creating them. So we
walked together, until I perceived that we were drawing near to the town
which we had discerned.
And now we became aware of people going to and fro. Sometimes they
stopped and looked upon us with smiles, and even greetings; and
sometimes they went past absorbed in thought.
Houses appeared, both small wayside abodes and larger mansions with
sheltered gardens.
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