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CHAPTER XII.AVhex he had goneaway that eveningandIhadreturned to the studio to put out the lights, andsee that all was safe, it being past midnight,Ifound her there, beside the work of her hands.A long, loose, white robe clung close to her, andfell about her feet; she looked taller, whiter,lovelier,perhaps, than ever, but it seemed to methat there wasinher beautysomething unearthly;one coidd have imagined her to be that Sospitraof her lover's poem, who was lifted above allearthly woes, save the two supreme sorrows —Love and Death.She sat down on the wooden bench that stoodnear the statue and motioned me to stay." You brought Maryxhere ?" she asked me." Yes:Ithought you wereasleep."