She lay raised on the bed, the sweep of the sheet from the raised feet was like a clean curve of snow, so silent.

She lay like a maiden asleep.

With his candle in his hand, he bent over her.

She lay like a girl asleep and dreaming of her love.

The mouth was a little open as if wondering from the suffering, but her face was young, her brow clear and white as if life had never touched it.