In and out, in and out, and
among the bushes where the honey-creeper hung, he went looking for her. At
last, far off, in the sunshine, he saw her gathering shells upon the sand.
She was not a child now, but a woman, and the sun shone on her soft brown
hair, and in her white dress she put the shells she gathered. She was
stooping, but when she heard his step she stood up, holding her skirt close
about her, and waited for his coming. One hand she put in his, and
together they walked on over the glittering sand and pink sea-shells; and
they heard the leaves talking, and they heard the waters babbling on their
way to the sea, and they heard the sea singing to itself, singing, singing.
At last they came to a place where was a long reach of pure white sand;
there she stood still, and dropped on to the sand one by one the shells
that she had gathered. Then she looked up into his face with her beautiful
eyes. She said nothing; but she lifted one hand and laid it softly on his
forehead; the other she laid on his heart.
With a cry of suppressed agony Waldo sprung from the bed, flung open the
upper half of the door, and leaned out, breathing heavily.
Great God! it might be only a dream, but the pain was very real, as though
a knife ran through his heart, as though some treacherous murderer crept on
him in the dark! The strong man drew his breath like a frightened woman.
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