As soon as Iver and Mehetabel had issued from the fog and were upon the heath, and in the sunshine, she stayed her feet.
"I will go no further," she said.
"Look," said he, "how the fog lies below at the bottom of the Punch-Bowl, as though it were snow. Above, on the downs all is sunshine."
"Yes, you go up into the light and warmth," answered she. "I must back and down into the cold vapors, cold as death."
He thought of his dream. There was despondency in her tone.
"The sun will pierce and scatter the vapors and shine over and warm you below."
She shook her head.
"Iver," she said, "you may tell me now we are alone. What was your dream?"
Again he appeared disconcerted.
"Of what, of whom did you dream?"