Access Online - The European Library

86ARIADNE.tired head on them and caressed them;they werenot colder than his heart,Ithought."Oh, stones, it was no dream? Tell " me itwas no dream ? You heard him first! shemuttered, lyingthere, and then she crouched andwept and shuddered, and laid her soft mouthand beating breast to those senseless flags, becauseonce they had borne his feet and once hadheard his voice. Would he have laughed hadhe been there ? Perhaps.Idrew back into the gloom and let her be.She had no thought of me or any living thing,save of him by whom she had been forsaken:no thought at all.She was mad still,if Love be madness: — andnot the sublimest self-oblivion which can everraise the mortal to deity, asIthink.Ilet her be;she had fallen forward with herarms flung outward, and her head resting on thestones. Strong shudders shook her at intervalsin the convulsion of her weeping; but she wasotherwise still. The warmth from the burningwood fell onher, and touched to gold the loosethick coils of her hair. Iclosed the door, and