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III. How a Little Sound Produced a Great Dream

           Suddenlythesetwowheeledoutfromthemassofdancers,divedintooneofthepoolsoftheheath,andcameoutsomewhereintoaniridescenthollow,archedwithrainbows.“Itmustbehere,”saidthevoicebyherside,andblushinglylookingupshesawhimremovinghiscasquetokissher.Atthatmomenttherewasacrackingnoise,andhisfigurefellintofragmentslikeapackofcards.

           Shecriedaloud.“OthatIhadseenhisface!”

           Eustaciaawoke.Thecrackinghadbeenthatofthewindowshutterdownstairs,whichthemaid-servantwasopeningtoletintheday,nowslowlyincreasingtoNature’smeagreallowanceatthissicklytimeoftheyear.“OthatIhadseenhisface!”shesaidagain.“’TwasmeantforMr.Yeobright!”

           Whenshebecamecoolersheperceivedthatmanyofthephasesofthedreamhadnaturallyarisenoutoftheimagesandfanciesofthedaybefore.Butthisdetractedlittlefromitsinterest,whichlayintheexcellentfuelitprovidedfornewlykindledfervour.Shewasatthemodulatingpointbetweenindifferenceandlove,atthestagecalled“havingafancyfor.”Itoccursonceinthehistoryofthemostgiganticpassions,anditisaperiodwhentheyareinthehandsoftheweakestwill.

           Theperfervidwomanwasbythistimehalfinlovewithavision.Thefantasticnatureofherpassion,whichloweredherasanintellect,raisedherasasoul.Ifshehadhadalittlemoreself-controlshewouldhaveattenuatedtheemotiontonothingbysheerreasoning,andsohavekilleditoff

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Roboto Lora
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