bows. After this he departed, Krista entered the house and the rest dispersed to their several homes. Only Venik again was left standing just on the spot where he stood the other day.
He was again overshadowed by the shadow of the opposite houses, while the moon’s radiance fell in full lustre on Krista’s house and upon her window.
This time there was no din of voices in that house. Krista was seemingly alone. Now he could have spoken to her. But what was there to say?
While he looked thus at those windows of hers, behind which floated rich curtains, he felt as though he fain must again cry out “Krista!” Then perhaps the window would be opened and she would appear at it. But he did not call out to her, and yet the window was opened and Krista appeared at it. She looked into the sky and to a star. Then she went away from the window and Venik heard her hum to herself snatches of song, and amongst them he recognised many from the hillside, and from the hollow tree. At this his flesh crept. Then she came to the window again, again for a moment looked toward the sky, and toward the star, and then Venik heard her humming to herself half aloud “The Orphaned Child.”
And here Venik shivered as if the cold of winter had come upon him. Was she yet orphaned, was she yet in sorrow? Did she remember? Did the gorgeous life which she now led fail to satisfy her? Could he
