But Damaris came . Jeanette brought her in amid the fiery glow of a November sunset . Thyra stood up , and for a moment they looked at each other . The insolence of Damaris ' beauty was gone . Her eyes were dull and heavy with weeping , her lips were pale , and her face had lost its laughter and dimples . Only her hair , escaping from the shawl she had cast around it , gushed forth in warm splendor in the sunset light , and framed her wan face like the aureole of a Madonna . Thyra looked upon her with a shock of remorse . This was not the radiant creature she had met on the bridge that summer afternoon . This -- this -- was HER work . She held out her arms . `` Oh , Damaris , forgive me . We both loved him -- that must be a bond between us for life . '' Damaris came forward and threw her arms about the older woman , lifting her face . As their lips met even Cynthia White realized that she had no business there . She vented the irritation of her embarrassment on the innocent Jeanette . `` Come away , '' she whispered crossly . `` Ca n't you see we 're not wanted here ? '' She drew Jeanette out , leaving Thyra rocking Damaris in her arms , and crooning over her like a mother over her child . When December had grown old Damaris was still with Thyra . It was understood that she was to remain there for the winter , at least .
Thyra could not bear her XXXXX be out of her sight .
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