Her white face, made narrow by the streaming curtain of her hair, her
white arms and feet were luminous in that dark place, and revealed the
semblance of her body. His cowl was thrown back; he had bowed his head to
his knees. She stood over him, looking down upon him, not moving. Her eyes
were clear and wide, and her parted lips smiled. The rise and fall of her
breasts could be heard as they stirred her gown.
She put out her hand and laid it on his head; she stooped to him as he
looked fearfully up, and, meeting his face, kissed him. No words passed
between them, but he rose and stood by her, and she took his hand.
Together, hand in hand, they went deep into the valley, and the night hid
them under the stars, and the silence swallowed up the sounds of their
bare footfalls.
V
The philosopher sat barefoot in the hollow of his valley, and wrote
diligently in a book. He paused, pen in hand, and looked over the folds of
the hills where the haze of heat hung blue, and brown at the edges. It lay
upon the hill-tops like a mist. The sky was grey, and the land was pale,
burned to the bone. Heavy masses of trees in the hanging wood showed
lifeless and black. No bird sang, but there were crickets in the bents,
shrilling inconceivably.
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