"Ruth! What is wrong with you?
What has she done to you ?" We ran to his side.

He stood clutching her hands, searching her eyes.
They were wide, unseeing, dream filled.

Upon her face the calm and stillness, which were mirrored reflections of Norhala's unearthly tranquillity, had deepened.
"Brother." The sweet voice seemed far away, drifting out of untroubled space, an echo of Norhala's golden chimings--"Brother, there is nothing wrong with me.

Indeed--all is--well with me--brother." He dropped the listless palms, faced the woman, tall figure tense, drawn with mingled rage and anguish.
"What have you done to her ?" he whispered in Norhala's own tongue.
Her serene gaze took him in, undisturbed by his anger save for the faintest shadow of wonder, of perplexity.
"Done ?" she repeated, slowly.

"I have stilled all that was troubled within her--have lifted her above sorrow.