He lay down in a scoop of the stones.

The sun entered there, but no wind, so that a dry sweet scent exuded from the young shoots of heather.

That warmth and perfume crept through the shield of his spirit, and stole into his blood; ardent images rose before him, the vision of an unending embrace.
Out of an embrace sprang Life, out of that the World was made, this World, with its innumerable forms, and natures--no two alike! And from him and her would spring forms to take their place in the great pattern.
This seemed wonderful, and right-for they would be worthy forms, who would hand on those traditions which seemed to him so necessary and great.

And then there broke on him one of those delirious waves of natural desire, against which he had so often fought, so often with great pain conquered.

He got up, and ran downhill, leaping over the stones, and the thicker clumps of heather.
Audrey Noel, too, had been early astir, though she had gone late enough to bed.