In bosses of ivory and in large splashed stars the roses gleamed on the darkness of foliage and stems and grass.

Paul and Miriam stood close together, silent, and watched.

Point after point the steady roses shone out to them, seeming to kindle something in their souls.

The dusk came like smoke around, and still did not put out the roses.
Paul looked into Miriam's eyes.

She was pale and expectant with wonder, her lips were parted, and her dark eyes lay open to him.