It had a coldness, a self-possession, a motion of its own.

In that clear, transparent, shimmering light, every little fold of the dress, every little shadow of the white arms, the white shoulders, came up to me.

The face turned up to meet mine.

I remember so well the light shining down on the face, not a shadow anywhere, not a shadow beneath the eyebrows, the nostrils, the waves of hair.

It was a vision of light, theatening, sinister.
She smiled, her lips parted.
"You come to me to-morrow," she said.