the gorse bushes shrinking from their presence; she stepped into

the heather as into a quickening bath that almost hurt。 Her

fingers moved over the clasped fingers of the child; she heard

the anxious voice of the baby; as it tried to make her talk;

distraught。

And she shrank away again; back into her darkness; and for a

long while remained blotted safely away from living。 But autumn

came with the faint red glimmer of robins singing; winter

darkened the moors; and almost savagely she turned again to

life; demanding her life back again; demanding that it should be

as it had been when she was a girl; on the land at home; under

the sky。 Snow lay in great expanses; the telegraph posts strode

over the white earth; away under the gloom of the sky。 And

savagely her desire rose in her again; demanding that this was

Poland; her youth; that all was her own again。

But there were no sledges nor bells; she did not see the

peasants ing out like new people; in their sheepskins and

their fresh; ruddy; bright faces; that seemed to bee new and

vivid when the snow lit up the ground。 It did not e to her;

the life of her youth; it did not e back。 There was a little

agony of struggle; then a relapse into the darkness of the

convent; where Satan and the devils raged round the walls; and

Christ was white on the cross of victory。

She watch