I held her close, pleading, caressing; I seized her, white with anger,
but she resisted. "If it is true," she sighed, "that you find in me a friend, let us turn
back together." The Phantom of the Past would go no further. THE SACRIFICE

I went into a field of flowers, whose petals are whiter than snow and
whose hearts are pure gold. Far afield a woman cried, "I have killed him I loved!" and from a jar she
poured blood upon the flowers whose petals are whiter than snow and whose
hearts are pure gold. Far afield I followed, and on the jar I read a thousand names, while from
within the fresh blood bubbled to the brim. "I have killed him I loved!" she cried. "The world's athirst; now let it
drink!" She passed, and far afield I watched her pouring blood upon the
flowers whose petals are whiter than snow and whose hearts are pure gold. DESTINY

I came to the bridge which few may pass. "Pass!" cried the keeper, but I laughed, saying, "There is time;" and he
smiled and shut the gates. To the bridge which few may pass came young and old. All were refused. Idly I stood and counted them, until, wearied of their noise and
lamentations, I came again to the bridge which few may pass. Those in the throng about the gates shrieked out, "He comes too late!" But I laughed, saying, "There is time." "Pass!" cried the keeper as I entered; then smiled and shut the gates. THE THRONG

There, where the throng was thickest in the street, I stood with Pierrot. All eyes were turned on me. "What are they laughing at?" I asked, but he grinned, dusting the chalk
from my black cloak. "I cannot see; it must be something droll, perhaps
an honest thief!" All eyes were turned on me. "He has robbed you of your purse!" they laughed. "My purse!" I cried; "Pierrot--help! it is a thief!" They laughed: "He has robbed you of your purse!" Then Truth stepped out, holding a mirror. "If he is an honest thief,"
cried Truth, "Pierrot shall find him with this mirror!" but he only
grinned, dusting the chalk from my black cloak. "You see," he said, "Truth is an honest thief, she brings you back your
mirror." All eyes were turned on me. "Arrest Truth!" I cried, forgetting it was not a mirror but a purse I
lost, standing with Pierrot, there, where the throng was thickest in the
street. THE JESTER

"Was she fair?" I asked, but he only chuckled, listening to the bells
jingling on his cap. "Stabbed," he tittered. "Think of the long journey, the days of peril,
the dreadful nights! Think how he wandered, for her sake, year after
year, through hostile lands, yearning for kith and kin, yearning for
her!" "Stabbed," he tittered, listening to the bells jingling on his cap. "Was she fair?" I asked, but he only snarled, muttering to the bells
jingling on his cap. "She kissed him at the gate," he tittered, "but in the hall his brother's
welcome touched his heart." "Was she fair?" I asked. "Stabbed," he chuckled. "Think of the long journey, the days of peril,
the dreadful nights! Think how he wandered, for her sake, year after year
through hostile lands, yearning for kith and kin, yearning for her!" "She kissed him at the gate, but in the hall his brother's welcome
touched his heart." "Was she fair?" I asked; but he only snarled, listening to the bells
jingling in his cap. THE GREEN ROOM

The Clown turned his powdered face to the mirror. "If to be fair is to be beautiful," he said, "who can compare with me in
my white mask?" "Who can compare with him in his white mask?" I asked of Death beside me. "Who can compare with me?" said Death, "for I am paler still." "You are very beautiful," sighed the Clown, turning his powdered face
from the mirror. THE LOVE TEST

"If it is true that you love," said Love, "then wait no longer. Give her
these jewels which would dishonour her and so dishonour you in loving
one dishonoured. If it is true that you love," said Love, "then wait no
longer." I took the jewels and went to her, but she trod upon them, sobbing:
"Teach me to wait--I love you!" "Then wait, if it is true," said Love. THE STREET OF THE FOUR WINDS

  "Ferme tes yeux à demi,
  Croise tes bras sur ton sein,
  Et de ton coeur endormi
  Chasse à jamais tout dessein." "Je chante la nature,
  Les étoiles du soir, les larmes du matin,
  Les couchers de soleil à l'horizon lointain,
  Le ciel qui parle au coeur d'existence future!" I

The animal paused on the threshold, interrogative alert, ready for flight
if necessary. Severn laid down his palette, and held out a hand of
welcome. The cat remained motionless, her yellow eyes fastened upon
Severn. "Puss," he said, in his low, pleasant voice, "come in." The tip of her thin tail twitched uncertainly. "Come in," he said again. Apparently she found his voice reassuring, for she slowly settled upon all
fours, her eyes still fastened upon him, her tail tucked under her gaunt
flanks. He rose from his easel smiling. She eyed him quietly, and when he walked
toward her she watched him bend above her without a wince; her eyes
followed his hand until it touched her head. Then she uttered a ragged
mew. It had long been Severn's custom to converse with animals, probably
because he lived so much alone; and now he said, "What's the matter,
puss?" Her timid eyes sought his. "I understand," he said gently, "you shall have it at once." Then moving quietly about he busied himself with the duties of a host,
rinsed a saucer, filled it with the rest of the milk from the bottle on
the window-sill, and kneeling down, crumbled a roll into the hollow of his
hand. The creature rose and crept toward the saucer. With the handle of a palette-knife he stirred the crumbs and milk together
and stepped back as she thrust her nose into the mess. He watched her in
silence. From time to time the saucer clinked upon the tiled floor as she
reached for a morsel on the rim; and at last the bread was all gone, and
her purple tongue travelled over every unlicked spot until the saucer
shone like polished marble. Then she sat up, and coolly turning her back
to him, began her ablutions. "Keep it up," said Severn, much interested, "you need it." She flattened one ear, but neither turned nor interrupted her toilet. As
the grime was slowly removed Severn observed that nature had intended her
for a white cat. Her fur had disappeared in patches, from disease or the
chances of war, her tail was bony and her spine sharp. But what charms she
had were becoming apparent under vigorous licking, and he waited until she
had finished before re-opening the conversation. When at last she closed
her eyes and folded her forepaws under her breast, he began again very
gently: "Puss, tell me your troubles." At the sound of his voice she broke into a harsh rumbling which he
recognized as an attempt to purr. He bent over to rub her cheek and she
mewed again, an amiable inquiring little mew, to which he replied,
"Certainly, you are greatly improved, and when you recover your plumage
you will be a gorgeous bird."