heaven became the shapes in the marsh, and through each ran
momentary rivers of purple, errant between banks of gold. And the
stalwart army of reeds appeared out of the gloom with all their
pennons waving as far as the eye could see. And from another window
she saw the vast cathedral gathering its ponderous strength
together, and lifting it up in towers out of the marshlands.

She said, 'I will never, never leave the marsh.'

An hour later she dressed with great difficulty and went down to eat
the second meal of her life. The farmer and his wife were kindly
folk, and taught her how to eat.

'I suppose the gipsies don't have knives and forks,' one said to the
other afterwards.

After breakfast the farmer went and saw the Dean, who lived near his
cathedral, and presently returned and brought back to the Dean's
house the little Wild Thing with the new soul.

'This is the lady,' said the farmer. 'This is Dean Murnith.' Then he
went away.

'Ah,' said the Dean, 'I understand you were lost the other night in
the marshes. It was a terrible night to be lost in the marshes.'

'I love the marshes,' said the little Wild Thing with the new soul.

'Indeed! How old are you?' said the Dean.