I had left a statue of unforgiving coldness.

I started round to catch in my arms a half-fainting, grief-stricken form, shaken with sobs that it broke my heart to hear.

I placed her on the camp-stool.

I knelt down and comforted her as well as I could, stroking her hands, my arm about her heaving shoulders, with the gold-brown hair streaming over them.

Such hair as it was! So much longer than I had dreamt.