She stayed, the theater woman; and that night
Daniel had dreams of her. She came to his bed
In beauty; stood beside him and said “Dora.”
How could she know of Dora? It was a dream,
Yet how could she know so much? And how had she fathomed,
All in one day, the longing he denied?
There was no loathing. Anywhere in his heart—
That sweetened as he said it—there was no hate
For Dora, whom he thought he saw there too,
Standing beside the theater woman and weeping,