1 Ethan stood before the door, his head heavy with dreams, his arm still about Mattie.
2 Here and there a farmhouse stood far back among the fields, mute and cold as a grave-stone.
3 Their arms had slipped apart and they stood motionless, each seeking to distinguish the other's face.
4 Seen thus, from the pure and frosty darkness in which he stood, it seemed to be seething in a mist of heat.
5 Down the side wall facing the window stood a row of kitchen chairs from which the older women had just risen.
6 As he stood in the darkness outside the church these memories came back with the poignancy of vanished things.
7 He stood there a moment, breathing quickly, and looking up and down the street, in which not another figure moved.
8 She stood perfectly still, looking after him, in an attitude of tranquil expectancy torturing to the hidden watcher.
9 They stood together in the gloom of the spruces, an empty world glimmering about them wide and grey under the stars.
10 "It might have fallen off into the snow," Mattie continued, after a pause during which they had stood intently listening.
11 She was almost the last to leave the hall, and she stood looking uncertainly about her as if wondering why he did not show himself.
12 A wave of shyness pulled him back into the dark angle of the wall, and he stood there in silence instead of making his presence known to her.
13 In another moment she would step forth into the night, and his eyes, accustomed to the obscurity, would discern her as clearly as though she stood in daylight.
14 Against the dark background of the kitchen she stood up tall and angular, one hand drawing a quilted counterpane to her flat breast, while the other held a lamp.
15 But now, as he stood outside the church, and saw Mattie spinning down the floor with Denis Eady, a throng of disregarded hints and menaces wove their cloud about his brain.
16 "I wouldn't ever have it said that I stood in the way of a poor girl like Mattie marrying a smart fellow like Denis Eady," Zeena answered in a tone of plaintive self-effacement.
17 As she passed down the line, her light figure swinging from hand to hand in circles of increasing swiftness, the scarf flew off her head and stood out behind her shoulders, and Frome, at each turn, caught sight of her laughing panting lips, the cloud of dark hair about her forehead, and the dark eyes which seemed the only fixed points in a maze of flying lines.
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