the dark-green, wind-swept grass grew sweet and succulent in summer. the sun seemed to shine from out a deep blue ocean of light. the nights were silvery, the sky seemed dissolved into a pale, pellucid mist; sunset and dawn co-mingled, and a white wavering haze crept over the earth. here life was strong and swift, for it knew that its days were brief.

marina was installed in makar's room, and he was transferred to

demid's.

makar greeted marina with an inhospitable snarl when he saw her for the first time; then, showing his teeth, he struck her with his paw. demid beat him for this behaviour, and he quieted down. then marina made friends with him.

demid went into the woods in the daytime, and marina was left alone.

she decorated her room in her own fashion, with a crude, somewhat exaggerated, yet graceful, taste. she hung round in symmetrical order the skins and cloth hangings, brightly embroidered with red and blue cocks and reindeers. she placed an image of the god-mother in the corner; she washed the floor; and her multi-coloured room—smelling as before of the woods—began to resemble a forest-chapel, where the forest folk pray to their gods.

in the pale-greenish twilight of the illimitable night, when only horn-owls cried in the woods and bear-cubs snarled by the river, demid went in to marina. she could not think—her mind moved slowly and awkwardly like a great lumbering animal—she could only feel, and in those warm, voluptuous, star-drenched nights she yielded herself to demid, desiring to become one with him, his strength, and his passion.

the nights were pale, tremulous, and mysterious. there was a deep, heavy, nocturnal stillness. white spirals of mist drifted along the ground. night-owls and wood spirits hooted. in the morning was a red blaze of glory as the great orb of day rose from the east into the azure vault of heaven.

the days flew by and summer passed.