As the golden swim of light overhead died out, the moon gained
brightness, and seemed to begin to smile forth her ascendancy. The dark
woods on the opposite shore melted into universal shadow. And amid this
universal under-shadow, there was a scattered intrusion of lights. Far
down the lake were fantastic pale strings of colour, like beads of wan
fire, green and red and yellow. The music came out in a little puff, as
the launch, all illuminated, veered into the great shadow, stirring her
outlines of half-living lights, puffing out her music in little drifts.
All were lighting up. Here and there, close against the faint water,
and at the far end of the lake, where the water lay milky in the last
whiteness of the sky, and there was no shadow, solitary, frail flames
of lanterns floated from the unseen boats. There was a sound of oars,
and a boat passed from the pallor into the darkness under the wood,
where her lanterns seemed to kindle into fire, hanging in ruddy lovely
globes. And again, in the lake, shadowy red gleams hovered in
reflection about the boat.
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