Page 93 (1/2)

The days went by, they ran on dark-padded feet in silence He

went to see Anna, but again there had colooe and delivered up Her face in its delicate colouring was

nant The mother bowed her head and

ain with

fulfil It was a passion, a

passion for hirip Verily the

passion of his heart lifted the fine bite of steel He was

carving, as he had alanted, the Creation of Eve It was a

panel in low relief, for a church Adaure, stooped towards hi forward His unveiled hand; and Eve, a s like a flame towards the hand of

God, fro at the Eve She was thin, a

keen, unripe thing With tre passion, fine as a breath of

air, he sent the chisel over her belly, her hard, unripe, sure, with sharp lines, in the

throes and torture and ecstasy of her creation But he treures There

was a bird on a bough overhead, lifting its wings for flight,

and a serpent wreathing up to it It was not finished yet He

trembled with passion, at last able to create the new, sharp

body of his Eve