It was here she discovered him one of the sons of God such
as were in the beginning of the world, not a man, something other,
something more.
This was release at last. She had had lovers, she had known passion.
But this was neither love nor passion. It was the daughters of men
coming back to the sons of God, the strange inhuman sons of God who are
in the beginning.
Her face was now one dazzle of released, golden light, as she looked up
at him, and laid her hands full on his thighs, behind, as he stood
before her. He looked down at her with a rich bright brow like a diadem
above his eyes. She was beautiful as a new marvellous flower opened at
his knees, a paradisal flower she was, beyond womanhood, such a flower
of luminousness. Yet something was tight and unfree in him. He did not
like this crouching, this radiance--not altogether.
It was all achieved, for her. She had found one of the sons of God from
the Beginning, and he had found one of the first most luminous
daughters of men.
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