Then I heard a sweet voice, sweeter than all the birds. It was
the voice of Lorna Doone. I stayed behind the rocks, because I
was afraid that the sweet singer would see me and run away. After
a few minutes I looked out and saw her coming towards me,
walking by the side of the stream. I could not see her face clearly.
I saw only that her lovely dark hair had white flowers in it. It was
sunset, and the soft light over the western hills made shadows
behind her. Even now, when I see the sunset, I think of her on
that day.