Of all this Athelwold knew nothing, since she made no complaint, and
when he returned to her the light and life and brilliance would be hers
again, and there was no cloud or shadow on his delight. But the cloud
would come back over her when he again went away. Her only relief in her
condition was to sit before a fire or when out of doors to seat herself
on the bank of the stream and watch the current. For although it was
still summer, the month being August, she would have a fire of logs
lighted in a large chamber and sit staring at the flames by the hour,
and sometimes holding her outstretched hands before the flames until
they were hot, she would then press them to her lips. Or when the day
was warm and bright she would be out of doors and spend hours by the
river gazing at the swift crystal current below as if fascinated by the
sight of the running water. It is a marvellously clear water, so that
looking down on it you can see the rounded pebbles in all their various
colours and markings lying at the bottom, and if there should be a trout
lying there facing the current and slowly waving his tail from side to
side, you could count the red spots on his side, so clear is the water.
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