then‚ÅÝ‚Äînot one thing. And now, oh, God! she had dreamed that it was all hers, since that night of death and circling flame when they looked at each other soul to soul. But he had not meant anything. It was pity she had seen there, not love; and she rose and walked the room slowly, fast and faster.
With trembling hands she drew the Silver Fleece round her. Her head swam again and the blood flashed in her eyes. She heard a calling in the swamp, and the shadow of Elspeth seemed to hover over her, claiming her for her own, dragging her down, down.‚ÅÝ‚Ää‚Å݂Ķ She rushed through the swamp. The lagoon lay there before her presently, gleaming in the darkness‚ÅÝ‚Äîcold and still, and in it swam an awful shape.
She held her burning head‚ÅÝ‚Äîwas not everything plain? Was not everything clear? This was Sacrifice! This was the Atonement for the unforgiven sin. Emma‚Äôs was the pure soul which she must offer up to God; for it was God, a cold and mighty God, who had given it to Bles‚ÅÝ‚Äîher Bles. It was well; God willed it. But could she live? Must she live? Did God ask that, too?
All at once she stood straight; her whole body grew tense, alert. She heard no sound behind her, but knew he was there, and braced herself.
She must be true. She must be just. She must pay the uttermost farthing.
“Bles,” she called faintly, but did not turn her head.
“Zora!”
‚ÄúBles,‚Äù she choked, but her voice came stronger, ‚ÄúI know‚ÅÝ‚Äîall. Emma is a good girl. I helped bring her up myself and did all I could for her and she‚ÅÝ‚Äîshe is pure; marry her.‚Äù
His voice came slow and firm: