He followed, farther into the still woods;
Then stopped as she did, startled. For those two—
It must be those two new ones, those tall women—
Pondered the carcass of a fawn, a spotted
Three-months fawn that dogs had torn at the throat.
It was the nurse that knelt, lifting brown eyes
In sorrow, scarcely knowing Dora there.
The other one bent down to her.
“Stand up.
They both are here. The boy, too.”