“I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Mr. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. And the age gets higher. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. . At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. Rhea became alarmed that she was about to leave.
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