Explore "Dieu D'Amour" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Famagusta lay under a pitiless sun. Like an old Egyptian crocodile basking in the heat, the city stretched her length of amber-coloured walls and towers along the flat blue sea.
John of Yvetot was feasting with the archbishop in his lordship's golden-brown palace, facing the mighty spires and buttresses of his cathedral church of Saint Nicholas. Archbishop and knight were in their lordly cups, with many other knights and prelates, and the Moorish girls were dancing in clear veils, and plum-coloured slaves fanning the Archbishop's concubine with fans shaped like the sacred flabellum, and flies battening on the welter of meat pasties, dismembered fowls, molten jellies and disembowelled pomegranates that covered the tables. Godfrey, dizzy and sick, slipped out into the square.