For a moment all he had to offer looked poor and trivial. She had found the charm that escaped the hands of men when they slew Pan, and drowned his cries in whirr of wheels and scream of steam.
The courage of Maurice Sanctis went out of him as she drew nigh, the golden leaves touching her lightly-breathing breast. Plato's self could have found no plea to urge the hamadryad to leave her groves, the naiad to forsake her fountain.
At first she had not seen him, for there was a screen of carob boughs and withered bracken between himself and her. When she did perceive that he was there, a great and, it appeared to him, utterly inconsistent and disproportionate trouble and anger came together into her speaking eyes.
She stopped short; she did not speak.
He approached her, and said, with his usual gentleness:
'I was afraid some ill had happened to you. It was not like you to break your word.'
'I could not come,' she said, with some hesitation. 'I thought you would understand when you did not see me, and that you would go away.'
