The Worshipper of the Image

the dark moor which bounded his little wood. A ruined bank soaked with sunshine, a haunt

tuated while it limited her, lost by opposition to the great faces of earth and sky. Her life, so concentrated, so self-absorbed, seemed more of an essence, po

ol of but one of the elements of the mighty world. Yet to this element did

raction to her lover-sometimes shrink to the significance of one more flower, and so

ternoon, though all the time he knew that, however now and again the daylight seemed to c

ittle lips, and a handsomely marked adder began to glide, like molten metal, along the bank to Silencieux. The brilliant whiteness of the image had fascinated the little creature. Antony kept very still. Darting its head from side to side, venomously alert against the smallest sound, the adder reached Silencieux. Then to Ant

d in an instant the adder was nothing mor

For another moment his fancy made him self-conscious, and turne

on on the lips of Art