| Even while I think this thought the vision vanishes |
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| Useless the interruption. From the folio |
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| Miss Plumpness did not faint — she only tittered |
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| Yes, she is gone, this morning. I awake |
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| Well—as I said—my love, my bride, my wife |
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| Miss Plumpness tittered. Rupert went away |
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| Down in a stream-fed valley stood the Inn |
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| Alone! And where is she? From that lone couch |
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| 'Helen!' I say. . .no more. . .not any more |
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| He kissed her in those woodland haunts, and she |
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