It seemed to him that she had
won a great battle. He felt awestruck as he looked into her eyes. He
tried to speak to her, but no words came to him except these, which he
murmured at last below his breath:
"Your victory."
Cuckoo looked up at him. Her eyes were still lightly clouded with sleep,
but they were smiling, as if they had been gazing upon the face of
beauty.
For how long had Cuckoo slept? Surely through all the length of her life,
through all the tears that she had shed, through all the sad deeds that
she had committed! Now, at last, she woke.
Her slumber had been as the deep slumber of death.
And from death do we not awake to a new understanding and to a new world?
End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Flames, by Robert Smythe Hichens
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