THE TOWN. 23

the gray air. The flush that spreads across
the horizon, glimmers even on the bank of
clouds in the west; the darkness and mist


unfold, like the petals of a mighty flower, re-
vealing each instant, deeper and deeper secrets
in its golden heart. Dawn sucks the flame of
the morning star into itself, -a flake of light,
sparkling, white and serene, then lost for very