MynewpicturesarrivedlastweekontheGascogne。ThePuvisdeChavannesisevenmorebeautifulthanIthoughtitinParis。Apaledream-maidensitsbyapaledream-cowandastreamofanemicwaterflowsatherfeet。TheConstant，youwillremember，Igotbecauseyouadmiredit。Itishereinallitsfloridsplendour，thewholedominatedbyaglowingsensuosity。Thedraperyofthefemalefigureisaswonderfulasyousaid；thefabricallbarbaricpearlandgold，paintedwithaneasy，effortlessvoluptuousness，andthatwhite，gleaminglineofAfricancoastinthebackgroundrecallsmemoriesofyouveryprecioustome。ButitisuselesstodenythatConstantirritatesme。ThoughIcannotprovethechargeagainsthim，hisbrilliancyalwaysmakesmesuspecthimofcheapness。
　　HereMargaretstoppedandglancedattheremainingpagesofthisstrangelove-letter。Theyseemedtobefilledchieflywithdiscussionsofpicturesandbooks，andwithaslowsmileshelaidthemby。
　　Sheroseandbeganundressing。Beforeshelaydownshewenttoopenthewindow。Withherhandonthesill，shehesitated，feelingsuddenlyasthoughsomedangerwerelurkingoutside，someinordinatedesirewaitingtospringuponherinthedarkness。Shestoodthereforalongtime，gazingattheinfinitesweepofthesky。
　　“Oh，itisallsolittle，solittlethere，“shemurmured。
　　“Wheneverythingelseissodwarfed，whyshouldoneexpectlovetobegreat？Whyshouldonetrytoreadhighlycolouredsuggestionsintoalifelikethat？IfonlyIcouldfindonethinginitallthatmatteredgreatly，onethingthatwouldwarmmewhenIamalone！Willlifenevergivemethatonegreatmoment？“
　　Assheraisedthewindow，sheheardasoundintheplumbushesoutside。Itwasonlythehouse-dogrousedfromhissleep，butMargaretstartedviolentlyandtrembledsothatshecaughtthefootofthebedforsupport。Againshefeltherselfpursuedbysomeoverwhelminglonging，somedesperatenecessityforherself，liketheoutstretchingofhelpless，unseenarmsinthedarkness，andtheairseemedheavywithsighsofyearning。Shefledtoherbedwiththewords，“IloveyoumorethanChristwhodiedforme！“ringinginherears。
　　AboutmidnightthedanceatLockhart’swasatitsheight。
　　Eventheoldmenwhohadcometo“lookon“caughtthespiritofrevelryandstampedthefloorwiththevigorofoldSilenus。ErictooktheviolinfromtheFrenchmen，andMinnaOlesonsatattheorgan，andthemusicgrewmoreandmorecharacteristic——rude，halfmournfulmusic，madeupofthefolksongsoftheNorth，thatthevillagerssingthroughthelongnightinhamletsbythesea，whentheyarethinkingofthesun，andthespring，andthefishermensolongaway。ToMargaretsomeofitsoundedlikeGrieg’sPeerGyntmusic。Shefoundsomethingirresistiblyinfectiousinthemirthofthesepeoplewhoweresoseldommerry，andshefeltalmostoneofthem。Somethingseemedstrugglingforfreedominthemtonight，somethingofthejoyouschildhoodofthenationswhichexilehadnotkilled。Thegirlswereallboisterouswithdelight。Pleasurecametothembutrarely，andwhenitcame，theycaughtatitwildlyandcrusheditsflutteringwingsintheirstrongbrownfingers。Theyhadahardlifeenough，mostofthem。
　　Torridsummersandfreezingwinters，labouranddrudgeryandignorance，weretheportionoftheirgirlhood；ashortwooing，ahasty，lovelessmarriage，unlimitedmaternity，thanklesssons，prematureageandugliness，werethedoweroftheirwomanhood。Butwhatmatter？Tonighttherewashotliquorintheglassandhotbloodintheheart；tonighttheydanced。
　　TonightEricHermannsonhadrenewedhisyouth。Hewasnolongerthebig，silentNorwegianwhohadsatatMargaret’sfeetandlookedhopelesslyintohereyes。Tonighthewasaman，withaman’srightsandaman’spower。TonighthewasSiegfriedindeed。
　　Hishairwasyellowastheheavywheatintheripeofsummer，andhiseyesflashedlikethebluewaterbetweentheicepacksinthenorthseas。HewasnotafraidofMargarettonight，andwhenhedancedwithherheheldherfirmly。Shewastiredanddraggedonhisarmalittle，butthestrengthofthemanwaslikeanall-
　　pervadingfluid，stealingthroughherveins，awakeningunderherheartsomenameless，unsuspectedexistencethathadslumberedtherealltheseyearsandthatwentoutthroughherthrobbingfingertipstohisthatanswered。Shewonderedifthehoydenishbloodofsomelawlessancestor，longasleep，werecallingoutinhertonight，somedropofahotterfluidthatthecenturieshadfailedtocool，andwhy，ifthiscursewereinher，ithadnotspokenbefore。Butwasitacurse，thisawakening，thiswealthbeforeundiscovered，thismusicsetfree？Forthefirsttimeinherlifeherheartheldsomethingstrongerthanherself，wasnotthisworthwhile？Thensheceasedtowonder。Shelostsightofthelightsandthefacesandthemusicwasdrownedbythebeatingofherownarteries。Shesawonlytheblueeyesthatflashedaboveher，feltonlythewarmthofthatthrobbinghandwhichheldhersandwhichthebloodofhisheartfed。Dimly，asinadream，shesawthedroopingshoulders，highwhiteforeheadandtight，cynicalmouthofthemanshewastomarryinDecember。Foranhourshehadbeencrowdingbackthememoryofthatfacewithallherstrength。
　　“Letusstop，thisisenough，“shewhispered。Hisonlyanswerwastotightenthearmbehindher。Shesighedandletthatmasterfulstrengthbearherwhereitwould。Sheforgotthatthismanwaslittlemorethanasavage，thattheywouldpartatdawn。
　　Thebloodhasnomemories，noreflections，noregretsforthepast，noconsiderationofthefuture。
　　“Letusgooutwhereitiscooler，“shesaidwhenthemusicstopped；thinking，Iamgrowingfainthere，Ishallbeallrightintheopenair。Theysteppedoutintothecool，blueairofthenight。
　　Sincetheolderfolkhadbegundancing，theyoungNorwegianshadbeenslippingoutincouplestoclimbthewindmilltowerintothecooleratmosphere，asistheircustom。
　　“Youliketogoup？“askedEric，closetoherear。
　　Sheturnedandlookedathimwithsuppressedamusement。“Howhighisit？“
　　“Fortyfeet，about。Inotletyoufall。“Therewasanoteofirresistiblepleadinginhisvoice，andshefeltthathetremendouslywishedhertogo。Well，whynot？Thiswasanightoftheunusual，whenshewasnotherselfatall，butwaslivinganunreality。Tomorrow，yes，inafewhours，therewouldbetheVestibuleLimitedandtheworld。
　　“Well，ifyou’lltakegoodcareofme。Iusedtobeabletoclimb，whenIwasalittlegirl。“
　　Onceatthetopandseatedontheplatform，theyweresilent。
　　Margaretwonderedifshewouldnothungerforthatsceneallherlife，throughalltheroutineofthedaystocome。AbovethemstretchedthegreatWesternsky，serenelyblue，eveninthenight，withitsbig，burningstars，neversocoldanddeadandfarawayasindenseratmospheres。Themoonwouldnotbeupfortwentyminutesyet，andallaboutthehorizon，thatwidehorizon，whichseemedtoreacharoundtheworld，lingeredapalewhitelight，asofauniversaldawn。Thewearywindbroughtuptothemtheheavyodoursofthecornfields。Themusicofthedancesoundedfaintlyfrombelow。Ericleanedonhiselbowbesideher，hislegsswingingdownontheladder。HisgreatshoulderslookedmorethaneverlikethoseofthestoneDoryphorus，whostandsinhisperfect，reposefulstrengthintheLouvre，andhadoftenmadeherwonderifsuchmendiedforeverwiththeyouthofGreece。
　　“Howsweetthecornsmellsatnight，“saidMargaretnervously。
　　“Yes，liketheflowersthatgrowinparadise，Ithink。“
　　Shewassomewhatstartledbythisreply，andmorestartledwhenthistaciturnmanspokeagain。
　　“Yougoawaytomorrow？“
　　“Yes，wehavestayedlongerthanwethoughttonow。“
　　“Younotcomebackanymore？“
　　“No，Iexpectnot。Yousee，itisalongtriphalfwayacrossthecontinent。“
　　“Yousoonforgetaboutthiscountry，Iguess。“Itseemedtohimnowalittlethingtolosehissoulforthiswoman，butthatsheshouldutterlyforgetthisnightintowhichhethrewallhislifeandallhiseternity，thatwasabitterthought。
　　“No，Eric，Iwillnotforget。Youhaveallbeentookindtomeforthat。Andyouwon’tbesorryyoudancedthisonenight，willyou？“
　　“Ineverbesorry。Ihavenotbeensohappybefore。Inotbesohappyagain，ever。Youwillbehappymanynightsyet，Ionlythisone。Iwilldreamsometimes，maybe。“
　　Themightyresignationofhistonealarmedandtouchedher。
　　Itwasaswhensomegreatanimalcomposesitselffordeath，aswhenagreatshipgoesdownatsea。
　　Shesighed，butdidnotanswerhim。Hedrewalittlecloserandlookedintohereyes。
　　“Youarenotalwayshappy，too？“heasked。
　　“No，notalways，Eric；notveryoften，Ithink。“
　　“Youhaveatrouble？“
　　“Yes，butIcannotputitintowords。PerhapsifIcoulddothat，Icouldcureit。“
　　Heclaspedhishandstogetheroverhisheart，aschildrendowhentheypray，andsaidfalteringly，“IfIownalltheworld，Igivehimyou。“
　　Margaretfeltasuddenmoistureinhereyes，andlaidherhandonhis。
　　“Thankyou，Eric；Ibelieveyouwould。ButperhapseventhenIshouldnotbehappy。PerhapsIhavetoomuchofitalready。“
　　Shedidnottakeherhandawayfromhim；shedidnotdare。
　　Shesatstillandwaitedforthetraditionsinwhichshehadalwaysbelievedtospeakandsaveher。Buttheyweredumb。Shebelongedtoanultra-refinedcivilizationwhichtriestocheatnaturewithelegantsophistries。Cheatnature？Bah！Onegenerationmaydoit，perhapstwo，butthethird——Canweeverriseabovenatureorsinkbelowher？DidshenotturnonJerusalemasuponSodom，uponSt。AnthonyinhisdesertasuponNeroinhisseraglio？Doesshenotalwayscryinbrutaltriumph:“Iamherestill，atthebottomofthings，warmingtherootsoflife；youcannotstarvemenortamemenorthwartme；Imadetheworld，Iruleit，andIamitsdestiny。“