A sudden terror raised its head and peered at Elizabeth. Mary—oh, God—if he took her for Mary. The thought struck her as with a spear of ice. It burned as ice burns, and froze her as ice freezes. Her lips were stiff as she forced out the words: “Who am I? Say.” His hands were warm. He answered her at once. “We are in the Dream, you and I. You are the Woman of the Dream. Your face is the face of Love, and your hair—your floating hair—” He paused. “My hair—what colour is my hair?” whispered Elizabeth. “Your hair—” He lifted a strand of it. The wind played through it, and it brushed his cheek, then fell again upon her breast. His hand closed down upon it. “What colour is my hair?” said Elizabeth very quietly. Mary’s hair was dark. Even in the moonlight, Mary’s hair would be dark. If he said dark hair, dark like the night which would close upon them when that low moon was gone—what should she do—oh, God, what should she do? “Your hair is gold—moon gold, which is pale as a dream,” said David Blake. And a great shudder ran through Elizabeth from head to foot as the ice went from her heart. “Like moon gold,” repeated David, and his hands were warm against her breast. And then all at once they were in the dark together, for the moon went out suddenly like a blown candle. She had dropped into a bank of clouds that rose from the clouding west. The wind blew a little chill, and as suddenly as the light had gone, David, too, was gone. One moment, so near—touching her in the darkness—and the next, gone—gone noiselessly, leaving her shaking, quivering. When she could move, she lit a candle and looked in through the open door. David lay upon his side, with one hand under his cheek. He was sleeping like a child. Elizabeth shut the door. CHAPTER XVIII THE FACE OF LOVE Where have I seen these tall black trees, Two and two and three—yes, seven, Standing all about in a ring, And pointing up to Heaven? Where have I seen this black, black pool, That never ruffles to any breath, But stares and stares at the empty sky, As silently as death? How did we come here, you and I, With the pool beneath, and the trees above? Oh, even in death or the dusk of a dream, You are heart of the heart of Love. Elizabeth was very pale when she came down the next day. As she dressed, she could hear David singing and whistling in his room. He went down the stairs like a schoolboy, and when she followed she found him opening his letters and whistling still. “Hullo!” he said. “Good-morning. You’re late, and I’ve only got half an hour to breakfast in. I’m starving, I don’t believe you gave me any dinner last night. I shall be late for lunch. Give me something cold when I come in, I’ve got a pretty full day——” Elizabeth wondered as she listened to him if it were she who had dreamed. That evening he looked up suddenly from his book and said: “Was the moon full last night?”