If Truth had
appeared above him in the clouds now he could not have seen her, the mist
of death was in his eyes.
"My soul hears their glad step coming," he said; "and they shall mount!
they shall mount!" He raised his shrivelled hand to his eyes.
Then slowly from the white sky above, through the still air, came something
falling, falling, falling. Softly it fluttered down, and dropped on to the
breast of the dying man. He felt it with his hands. It was a feather. He
died holding it.
III. THE GARDENS OF PLEASURE.
She walked upon the beds, and the sweet rich scent arose; and she gathered
her hands full of flowers. Then Duty, with his white clear features, came
and looked at her. Then she ceased from gathering, but she walked away
among the flowers, smiling, and with her hands full.
Then Duty, with his still white face, came again, and looked at her; but
she, she turned her head away from him. At last she saw his face, and she
dropped the fairest of the flowers she had held, and walked silently away.
Then again he came to her. And she moaned, and bent her head low, and
turned to the gate. But as she went out she looked back at the sunlight on
the faces of the flowers, and wept in anguish. Then she went out, and it
shut behind her for ever; but still in her hand she held of the buds she
had gathered, and the scent was very sweet in the lonely desert.
But he followed her. Once more he stood before her with his still, white,
death-like face.
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