Page 42 (1/2)

She watched from the sick-room the snohirl past, like

flocks of shadows in haste, flying on some final mission out to

a leaden inalterable sea, beyond the final whiteness of the

curving shore, and the snow-speckled blackness of the rocks half

subed But near at hand on the trees the snoas soft in

bloorey and

querulous from behind

By the time the snowdrops were out, however, he was dead He

was dead But with curious equanie of the grass below, blohite in the wind, but not to be bloay She watched the, the white, shut flowers, anchored by a

thread to the grey-green grass, yet never bloay, not

drifting with the wind

As she rose in the ht blown like a thin snowstorer and fiercer, till the rose appeared, and the gold, and

the sea lit up below She was impassive and indifferent Yet she

was outside the enclosure of darkness

There passed a space of shadow again, the fa which she was moved, oblivious, to

Cossethay There, at first, there was nothing--just grey

nothing But then one ht her, and after that,of thrushes from the shrubbery, till her

heart, beaten upon, was forced to lift up its voice in rivalry