, and
kissed his breast with a slow, rapt, half-devotional
movement.

He knew she wanted something, his heart yearned to give it
her. His heart yearned over her. And as she lifted her face,
that was radiant and rosy as a little cloud, his heart still
yearned over her, and, now from the distance, adored her. She
had a flower-like presence which he adored as he stood far off,
a stranger.

The weeks passed on, the time drew near, they were very
gentle, and delicately happy. The insistent, passionate, dark
soul, the powerful unsatisfaction in him seemed stilled and
tamed, the lion lay down with the lamb in him.

She loved him very much indeed, and he waited near her. She
was a precious, remote thing to him at this time, as she waited
for her child. Her soul was glad with an ecstasy because of the
coming infant. She wanted a boy: oh, very much she wanted a
boy.

But she seemed so young and so frail. She was indeed only a
girl. As she stood by the fire washing herself--she was
proud to wash herself at this time--and he looked at her,
his heart was full of extreme tenderness for her. Such fine,
fine limbs, her slim, round arms like chasing lights, and her
legs so simple and childish, yet so very proud. Oh, she stood on
proud legs, with a lovely reckless balance of her full belly,
and the adorable little roundnesses, and the breasts becoming
important. Above it all, her face was like a rosy cloud
shining.

How proud she was, what a lovely proud thing her young body!
And she loved him to put his hand on her ripe fullness, so that
he should thrill also with the stir and the quickening there. He
was afraid and silent, but she flung her arms round his neck
with proud, impudent joy.

The pains came on, and Oh--how she cried! She would have
him stay with her. And after her long cries she would look at
him, with tears in her eyes and a sobbing laugh on her face,
saying:

"I don't mind it really."

It was bad enough. But to her it was never deathly. Even the
fierce, tearing pain was exhilarating. She screamed and
suffered, but was all the time curiously alive and vital. She
felt so powerfully alive and in the hands of such a masterly
force of life, that her bottom-most feeling was one of
exhilaration. She knew she was winning, winning, she was always
winning, with each onset of pain she was nearer to victory.

Probably he suffered more than she did. He was not shocked or
horrified. But he was screwed very tight in the