She must be blind soon! Would she be blind or dead first?

For the sun was rushing up behind her. Photogen woke, lifted his head
from her lap, and sprang to his feet. His face was one radiant smile.
His heart was full of daring--that of the hunter who will creep into
the tiger's den. Nycteris gave a cry, covered her face with her hands,
and pressed her eyelids close. Then blindly she stretched out her arms
to Photogen, crying, "Oh, I am so frightened! What is this? It must be
death! I don't wish to die yet. I love this room and the old lamp. I
do not want the other place! This is terrible. I want to hide. I want
to get into the sweet, soft, dark hands of all the other creatures. Ah
me! ah me!"

"What is the matter with you, girl?" said Photogen, with the arrogance
of all male creatures until they have been taught by the other kind.
He stood looking down upon her over his bow, of which he was examining
the string. "There is no fear of anything now, child. It is day. The
sun is all but up. Look! he will be above the brow of yon hill in one
moment more! Good-bye. Thank you for my night's lodging. I'm off.
Don't be a goose. If ever I can do anything for you--and all that, you
know!"

"Don't leave me; oh, don't leave me!" cried Nycteris. "I am dying! I
am dying! I cannot move. The light sucks all the strength out of me.
And oh, I am so frightened!"

But already Photogen had splashed through the river, holding high his
bow that it might not get wet. He rushed across the level, and
strained up the opposing hill. Hearing no answer, Nycteris removed her
hands. Photogen had reached the top, and the same moment the sunrays