She was furiously in love and torn with jealousy; and that love and jealousy could smart so, and cling so, was a strange revelation to one accustomed to make a world entirely to her liking.

Her dark eyes were hollow, her small mouth had lost its colour, and she showed that touch of something wasting and withering that Theocritan shepherds knew in old Sicilian days.

It was as though she had defied a god--and the god had avenged himself.
Suddenly he appeared--the teasing divinity--in human shape.

There was a rustling among the brushwood fringing the river.

Roger Barnes emerged and made his way up towards her.
"I've been stalking you all this time," he said, breathless, as he reached her, "and now at last--I've caught you!" Daphne rose furiously.