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He paused again and then, softly, with that curiously sweet, high voice that only the Irish seem to have, he sang: Woman of the white breasts, Eilidh; Woman of the gold-brown hair, and lips of the red, red rowan, Where is the swan that is whiter, with breast more soft, Or the wave on the sea that moves as thou movest, Eilidh. Olaf's Story There was a little silence. I looked upon him with wonder.

He mused a moment, then went on: "An' once I saw an Annir Choille, a girl of the green people, flit like a shade of green fire through Carntogher woods, an' once at Dunchraig I slept where the ashes of the Dun of Cormac MacConcobar are mixed with those of Cormac an' Eilidh the Fair, all burned in the nine flames that sprang from the harping of Cravetheen, an' I heard the echo of his dead harpings "

But I myself was struggling desperately against the drugged slumber pressing down upon me. "Lakla!" I heard O'Keefe murmur. "Lakla of the golden eyes no Eilidh the Fair!" He made an immense effort, half raised himself, grinned faintly. "Thought this was paradise when I first saw it, Doc," he sighed. "But I know now, if it is, No-Man's Land was the greatest place on earth for a honeymoon.

He was silent then: "They are of them the mighty ones why else would I have bent my knee to them as I would have to the spirit of my dead mother? Why else would Lakla, whose gold-brown hair is the hair of Eilidh the Fair, whose mouth is the sweet mouth of Deirdre, an' whose soul walked with mine ages agone among the fragrant green myrtle of Erin, serve them?" he whispered, eyes full of dream.

And thus it was that Lakla, the handmaiden of the Silent Ones, and Larry O'Keefe first looked into each other's hearts! Larry stood rapt, gazing at the stone. "Eilidh," I heard him whisper; "Eilidh of the lips like the red, red rowan and the golden-brown hair!" "Clearly of the Ranadae," said Marakinoff, "a development of the fossil Labyrinthodonts: you saw her teeth, da?"

'An' where the heart rests the feet are swift to follow. Not that I'm sayin' I'd like to live here, Larry, said he. "'I know where my heart is now, I told him. 'It rests on a girl with golden eyes and the hair and swan-white breast of Eilidh the Fair but me feet don't seem to get me to her, I said." The brogue thickened. "An' the little man in green nodded his head an' whirled his shillalah.