"But what if I do ?" she said to herself; "Annemie never will hurt me." And now, as she grew nearer her goal, her natural buoyancy of spirit returned as it had never done to her since the evening that he had kissed and left her.

As her body grew lighter and more exhausted, her fancy grew keener and more dominant.

All things of the earth and air spoke to her as she went along as they had used to do.

All that she had learned from the books in the long cold months came to her clear and wonderful.

She was not so very ignorant now--ignorant, indeed, beside him--but still knowing something that would make her able to read to him if he liked it, and to understand if he talked of grave things.
She had no fixed thought of what she would be to him when she reached him.
She fancied she would wait on him, and tend him, and make him well, and be caressed by him, and get all gracious pretty things of leaf and blossom about him, and kneel at his feet, and be quite happy if he only touched her now and then with his lips;--her thoughts went no further than that;--her love for him was of that intensity and absorption in which nothing But itself is remembered.
When a creature loves much, even when it is as little and as simple a soul as Bebee, the world and all its people and all its laws and ways are as naught.