CHAPTER XXIII
ELIZABETH WAITS
And they that have seen and heard,
Have wrested a gift from Fate
That no man taketh away.
For they hold in their hands the key,
To all that is this-side Death,
And they count it as dust by the way,
As small dust, driven before the breath
Of Winds that blow to the day.
“Do you remember my telling you about my dream?” said David, next day. He spoke quite suddenly, looking up from a letter that he was writing.