"The dreams!" she cried. "The dreams!" And leaping ahead, she danced
along the shadowed path. He hastened after her, but she flew fast and
faster; he followed, laughing, calling, pleading. He saw her twinkling
limbs a-dancing as once he saw them dance in a halo of firelight; but
now the fire was the fire of the world. Her garments twined and flew in
shadowy drapings about the perfect moulding of her young and dark
half-naked figure. Her heavy hair had burst its fastenings and lay in
stiffened, straggling masses, bending reluctantly to the breeze, like
curled smoke; while all about, the mad, wild singing rose and fell and
trembled, till his head whirled. He paused uncertainly at a parting of
the paths, crying:
"Zora! Zora!" as for some lost soul. "Zora! Zora!" echoed the cry,
faintly.
Abruptly the music fell; there came a long slow-growing silence; and
then, with a flutter, she was beside him again, laughing in his ears and
crying with mocking voice:
"Is you afeared, honey?"
He saw in her eyes sweet yearnings, but could speak nothing. He could
only clasp her hand tightly, and again down they raced through the wood.
All at once the swamp changed and chilled to a dull grayness; tall,
dull trees started down upon the murky waters; and long pendent
streamings of moss-like tears dripped from tree to earth.
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