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sness inthe child, herself melted out like scent into the shiny, pale air. After a time the child,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], too, melted with her in the mixing-potof moonlight,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and she rested with the hills and lilies and houses,all swum together in a kind of swoon.　　When she came to herself she was tired for sleep. Languidly shelooked about her; the clumps of white phlox seemed like bushes spreadwith linen; a moth ricochetted over them, and right across the garden. Following it with her eye roused her. A few whiffs of the raw,strong scent of phlox invigorated her. She passed along the path,hesitating at the white rose-bush. It smelled sweet and simple. She touched the white ruffles of the roses. Their fresh scentand cool, soft leaves reminded her of the morning-time and sunshine. She was very fond of them. But she was tired, and wanted to sleep. In the mysterious out-of-doors she felt forlorn.　　There was no noise anywhere. Evidently the children had notbeen wakened,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], or had gone to sleep again. A train,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], three miles away,roared across the valley. The night was very large, and very strange,stretching its hoary distances infinitely. And out of the silver-greyfog of darkness came sounds vague and hoarse: a corncrake notfar off, sound of a train like a sigh, and distant shouts of men.　　Her quietened heart beginning to beat quickly again, she hurrieddown the side garden to the back of the house. Softly she liftedthe latch; the door was still bolted, and hard against her. She rapped gently, waited, the
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