And she knew what he had come for: she unbent the
fingers, and let the flowers drop out, the flowers she had loved so, and
walked on without them, with dry, aching eyes. Then for the last time he
came. And she showed him her empty hands, the hands that held nothing now.
But still he looked. Then at length she opened her bosom and took out of
it one small flower she had hidden there, and laid it on the sand. She had
nothing more to give now, and she wandered away, and the grey sand whirled
about her.
IV. IN A FAR-OFF WORLD.
There is a world in one of the far-off stars, and things do not happen here
as they happen there.
In that world were a man and woman; they had one work, and they walked
together side by side on many days, and were friends--and that is a thing
that happens now and then in this world also.
But there was something in that star-world that there is not here. There
was a thick wood: where the trees grew closest, and the stems were
interlocked, and the summer sun never shone, there stood a shrine. In the
day all was quiet, but at night, when the stars shone or the moon glinted
on the tree-tops, and all was quiet below, if one crept here quite alone
and knelt on the steps of the stone altar, and uncovering one's breast, so
wounded it that the blood fell down on the altar steps, then whatever he
who knelt there wished for was granted him. And all this happens, as I
said, because it is a far-off world, and things often happen there as they
do not happen here.
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