Thy black cloak."
She stretched out her hand, as if she sought something in space on which she might rest.
Gwynplaine, rising by the side of Ursus, who had suddenly become as though petrified, knelt down before her.
"Never," said Dea, "never shall I hear him again."
She began, wandering, to sing again:—
"Deja, quiero,
A tu negro
Caparazon."
Then she heard a voice—even the beloved voice—answering:—
"O ven! ama!