  | They Crooned Together There, the Woman, the Child and the Birds | Frontispiece | | PAGE | | Scooped Hundreds—Perhaps Thousands—Out of a Chest to Flee at Dawn | 43 | | The Tall, Gaunt, Silent Woman ... Striding Through the Pastures | 49 | | I Seem to See ... a Beautiful Woman in a Blue Dress Sitting Under a Fruit Tree | 105 | | Persons Born in That Month of That Year Will Never Be Otherwise Than Far Out of the Ordinary | 132 | | Margarita Stopped and Stared at It Several Minutes | 144 | | For Hours and Hours I Walked, Muttering and Cursing | 163 | | Her Weekly Check, Plus a Draft for a Hundred Pounds | 174 | | She Spins Her Hemp and Weaves Osiers into Baskets and Changes Them for Goats' Hams | 204 | | The Gloomy, Faded Glories of the Musty Palace | 208 | | Ah, Faithful Caliban, What Hours of Terrible Tuition Made Thy Task Clear to Thee! | 233 | | He Sketched Her in Charcoal, Dressed (He Would Have It) in Black | 240 | | It Was After the Garden Love-Scene That She Won Her Recalls | 250 | | They Are Still as Death, Tranced in Those Liquid Bell-Tones | 270 | | I Leaned Over the Bank and Cried That I Was There, But She Never Stopped—It Was Terrible | 281 | | It Is a Favourite Claim of Ours Who Are Bidden to That Home That It Is an Enchanted Isle | 296 | Decorative Image
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