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"Don't you like ht?" said his low voice, the voice

of the shadow over her shoulder She clenched her hands in the

dewy brilliance of the ht?" repeated the soft voice

And she knew that if she turned, she would die A strange

rage filled her, a rage to tear things asunder Her hands felt

destructive, like metal blades of destruction

"Let me alone," she said

A darkness, an obstinacy settled on him too, in a kind of

inertia He sat inert beside her She threw off her cloak and

walked towards the moon, silver-white herself He followed her

closely

The ain and the dance He appropriated her

There was a fierce, white, cold passion in her heart But he

held her close, and danced with her Always present, like a soft

weight upon her, bearing her doas his body against her as

they danced He held her very close, so that she could feel his

body, the weight of hiy,behind her, upon her But still in her body

was the subdued, cold, indomitable passion She liked the dance:

it eased her, put her into a sort of trance But it was only a

kind of waiting, of using up the ti She left herself against him, she let

him exert all his power over her, to bear her down She received