Page 153 (1/2)
Wogan went from the parlour and cliing at theand walked up the
glihostly white between diht, and not a feather of cloud
stained the perfection of the sky It curved above his head spangled
like a fair lady's fan, and unfathomably blue like Clementina's eyes
when her heart stirred in their depths He reached the little footway
and turned into the upward cleft of the hills He walked now into the
thick night of a close-grown clump of dwarf-oaks, which weaved so dense
a thatch above his head that he knocked against the boles The trees
thinned, he crossed here and there a dirove of larches in the drearassy lip of a mountain torrent which henceforth
kept hi withto catch his e of rock, and
here in a tiny waterfall, and splashed into a pellucid pool, and the
reverberating noise filled the dell with aits banks with athe
stars; beyond, it chafed hoarsely between narroalls; and again half a
on shallows and evaded the stones with a tinkling
laugh But Wogan was deaf to the voices; he her, the trees
ceased, he caher he
ascended, the more heavily he walked He stopped and washed his face and
hands clean of blood-stains in the stream Above him and not very far