But as Amory had loved himself in Eleanor, so now what he hated was only a mirror.

Their poses were strewn about the pale dawn like broken glass.

The stars were long gone and there were left only the little sighing gusts of wind and the silences between...

but naked souls are poor things ever, and soon he turned homeward and let new lights come in with the sun.
***** A POEM THAT ELEANOR SENT AMORY SEVERAL YEARS LATER "Here, Earth-born, over the lilt of the water, Lisping its music and bearing a burden of light, Bosoming day as a laughing and radiant daughter...
Here we may whisper unheard, unafraid of the night.
Walking alone...

was it splendor, or what, we were bound with, Deep in the time when summer lets down her hair?
Shadows we loved and the patterns they covered the ground with Tapestries, mystical, faint in the breathless air.
That was the day...