It sat opposite to her, put
up a tiny paw, and beat the ground with its tail.
Lida gazed at it, longing to hug it convulsively, and large tears
filled her eyes. Infinite regret for her beautiful, ruined life
overcame her. Half fainting, she leant forward, over the edge of the
sun-baked parapet, and the sudden movement caused her to drop one of
her gloves into the water. In mute horror she watched it fall
noiselessly on the smooth surface of the water, making large circles.
She saw her pale yellow glove become darker and darker, and then
filling slowly with water, and turning over once, as in its death-
agony, sink down gradually with a spiral movement to the green depths
of the stream. Lida strained her eyes to mark its descent, but the
yellow spot grew ever smaller and more indistinct, and at last
disappeared. All that met her gaze was the smooth, dark surface of the
water.
"How did that happen, miss?" asked a female voice, close to her.
Lida started backwards, and saw a fat, snub-nosed peasant-woman who
looked at her with sympathetic curiosity.
Although such sympathy was only intended for the lost glove, to Lida it
seemed as if the good-natured, fat woman knew all, and pitied her.
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