the gorse bushes shrinking from their presence； she stepped into
the heather as into a quickening bath that almost hurt。 Her
fingers moved over the clasped fingers of the child； she heard
the anxious voice of the baby； as it tried to make her talk；
distraught。
And she shrank away again； back into her darkness； and for a
long while remained blotted safely away from living。 But autumn
came with the faint red glimmer of robins singing； winter
darkened the moors； and almost savagely she turned again to
life； demanding her life back again； demanding that it should be
as it had been when she was a girl； on the land at home； under
the sky。 Snow lay in great expanses； the telegraph posts strode
over the white earth； away under the gloom of the sky。 And
savagely her desire rose in her again； demanding that this was
Poland； her youth； that all was her own again。
But there were no sledges nor bells； she did not see the
peasants ing out like new people； in their sheepskins and
their fresh； ruddy； bright faces； that seemed to bee new and
vivid when the snow lit up the ground。 It did not e to her；
the life of her youth； it did not e back。 There was a little
agony of struggle； then a relapse into the darkness of the
convent； where Satan and the devils raged round the walls； and
Christ was white on the cross of victory。
She watch