I see Hera in you, too,
the peering, proud lady of intolerant eyelids; and Kore, the pale, sad
wife--which makes you your own daughter, my dear; and Gaia, by whom the
Athenians swore when they were serious,--Gaia, the Heart of the Earth. All
these you are in turns; but to me Despoina, the Lady of the Country, whose
secrets no man knows but me."
She was now by his side, very pale and pure in her distress. She put her
hand on his shoulder as she leaned to him. "Dearest, there is one of my
secrets you have not learned. May I tell it you?"
He listened sideways, not able to look at her. She felt him tremble. "I
think not--I think not. You will tell Ingram first--then do as you please.
Don't ask me to listen. Haven't I told you that I see you every night?"
"And I tell you nothing of my secret?"
"I never ask you."
"But do I not tell you? Can I keep it?"
"You don't speak to me. You never speak. You look. Fairies don't speak
with the tongue. They have better ways."
"What do you do with me?"
"I follow you, over the hills."
"And then?"
"At dawn you leave me."
"I am a ghost?"
"I don't know. You are Despoina. You go at dawn."
A power was upon her, and within her.
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