e had not even thought of resisting.

There were great blocks of stone in the desolate place, landed there
before the river had frozen for a great building, whose gloomy,
unfinished mass stood waiting for the warmth of spring to be completed.
She led him by the hand, passive and obedient as a child, to a sheltered
spot and made him sit down upon one of the stones. It was growing dark.

"Look at me," she said, standing before him, and touching his brow. He
obeyed.

"You are the image in my eyes," she said, after a moment's pause.

"Yes. I am the image in your eyes," he answered in a dull voice.

"You will never resist me again, I command it. Hereafter it will be
enough for me to touch your hand, or to look at you, and if I say,
'Sleep,' you will instantly become the image again. Do you understand
that?"

"I understand it."

"Promise!"

"I promise," he replied, without perceptible effort.

"You have been dreaming for years. From this moment you must forget all
your dreams."

His face expressed no understanding of what she said. She hesitated
a moment and then began to walk slowly up and down before him. His
half-glazed look followed her as she moved. She came back and laid her
hand upon his head.

"My will is yours. You have no will of your own. You cannot think
without me," She spoke in a tone of concentrated determination, and a
slight shiver passed over him.

"It is of no use to resist, for you have promised never to resist me
again," she continued. "All that I command must take place in your mind
instantly, without opposition. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he answered, moving uneasily.

For some seconds she again held her open palm upon his head. She seemed
to be evoking all her strength for a great effort.

"Listen to me, and let everything I say take possession of your mind for
ever. My will is yours, you are the image in my eyes, my word is your
law. You know what I please that you should know. You forget what I
command you to forget. You have been mad these many years, and I am
curing you. You must forget your madness. You have now forgotten it. I
have erased the memory of it with my hand. There is nothing to remember
any more."

The dull eyes, deep-set beneath the shadows of the overhanging brow,
seemed to seek her face in the dark, and for the third time there was
a nervous twitching of the shoulders and limbs. Unorna knew the symptom
well, but had never seen it return so often, like a protest