And he saw her no more.

Emotion choked him at the thought: he would never see her again--never! "When you're ready," jeered the one-eyed man; "come, choose your place." Silvere took a few more steps.

He was approaching the end of the path, and could see nothing but a strip of sky in which the rust-coloured light was fading away.

Here had he spent his life for two years past.
The slow approach of death added an ineffable charm to this pathway which had so long served as a lovers' walk.

He loitered, bidding a long and lingering farewell to all he loved; the grass, the timber, the stone of the old wall, all those things into which Miette had breathed life.
And again his thoughts wandered.