He did not even flutter his wings; he sat without stirring, and looked at Mary.
"No wonder it is still," she whispered again.

"I am the first person who has spoken in here for ten years." She moved away from the door, stepping as softly as if she were afraid of awakening some one.

She was glad that there was grass under her feet and that her steps made no sounds.

She walked under one of the fairy-like gray arches between the trees and looked up at the sprays and tendrils which formed them.

"I wonder if they are all quite dead," she said.