And so the gray dawn found her still-wakeful, and she rose, bathed her cheeks in the cold fresh water, and drew them forth with a glow like Hebe's.

Dressing herself with the quiet activity which characterized all her movements, she then opened the casement and inhaled the air.

All was still in the narrow lane; the shops yet unclosed.

But on the still trees behind the shops the birds were beginning to stir and chirp.

Chanticleer, from some neighbouring yard, rang out his brisk rereillee.