Eccolo!” he exclaimed.At the same moment the ground gave way$$$ and with a cry she fell out of the wood. Light and beauty enveloped her. She had fallen on to a little open terrace$$$ which was covered with violets from end to end.“Courage!” cried her companion$$$ now standing some six feet above. “Courage and love.”She did not answer. From her feet the ground sloped sharply into view$$$ and violets ran down in rivulets and streams and cataracts$$$ irrigating the hillside with blue$$$ eddying round the tree stems$$$ collecting into pools in the hollows$$$ covering the grass with spots of azure foam. But never again were they in such profusion; this terrace was the well-head$$$ the primal source whence beauty gushed out to water the earth.Standing at its brink$$$ like a swimmer who prepares$$$ was the good man. But he was not the good man that she had expected$$$ and he was alone.George had turned at the sound of her arrival. For a moment he contemplated her$$$ as one who had fallen out of heaven. He saw radiant joy in her face$$$ he saw the flowers beat against her dress in blue waves. The bushes above them closed. He stepped quickly forward and kissed her…