In Secret

And an Alpinist signalled an airplane over Mount Terrible from the White Shoulder of Thusis.

In the silvery dusk a cock-pheasant was crowing somewhere on a wheat-field's edge.

And in the enchantment of that lovely liaison which links day and night—when the gold and rose soften to mauve as the first star is born—John Recklow raised his quiet eyes and saw two dead souls come into his garden by the little door in the wall.