"Love it! I live on it. I come out here and sit down under the trees and close my eyes. Then the odor from the earth seems to enter me and make me over. Do you suppose grandfather Roper ever had such desires, such coarse joys in nature?" "No, his ancestors had lived that for him. He had it stored up in him, and he gave it out in moral passion." "And--they have gone on giving it out in passion----" She raised her heavy lids questioningly, dreamily. "So I must be planted again, for I am exhausted. Ah, well, she is a kindly mother, is old nature, and I like to lie down in her arms." A little brook flowed sluggishly about big tufts of meadow-grass. The late violets and swamp pinks sent up heavy odors, mixed with a strong earthy smell. They seemed to be in the midst of nature's housekeeping and walked lightly as unannounced guests. They wandered on to an open patch in the woods and sat down, sinking into the dry, heated wood-moss. Thornton had no desire to talk; she, who had listened to him the other time, now took him in charge. "You are so far away, here, in the heat and the earth; so far away from the world. One gets tired always trying to catch up, and always being tired." As she talked he felt his limbs heavy in obedience to her words. His mind became tranquil as under the influence of a narcotic; it seemed such a little thing what he did over there in Camberton, and so far removed from the strong pulse that beat beneath his body deep down in the earth. "Why are men so foolish," she whispered on. "We want really a few things only; quiet, rest, peace, tranquil bodies, and this great earth to shimmer and change forever." His eyes followed her face. Her skin was so transparent that each word seemed to make a dot of flashing color; her bosom gently moved in rhythm to her words, and her eyes with the heavy falling lids smiled at him in conspiracy with the mouth. "But that is not all the story--repose!" his words sounded hollow, like a lesson he had learned by rote and propriety had obliged him to repeat. "No!" her voice was lower yet than ever; "then comes love, and with love will flow in the passion and energy of life!" The words moved her body. What she said seemed to him intensely true for the moment. Again propriety offered protest. "And the other things--success and reputation and the good that the world needs." She moved her hands carelessly. "You would not need them." There was great scorn in that _them_. They lay quietly for several minutes while the earth murmured about. She had drawn him passively into her net. Like some parasitic growth she was taking her strength from him. But it was a new side to him, this yielding, and so in a few moments he remembered that hard, angular self that went about the week in his clothes. He jumped up. "I must ride back." She followed without protest. She seemed to swim beside him, happy in elemental, very simple thoughts, a thin color flushing over her face.