Bernard Capes, Bag and Baggage — The Hamadryad (1913)
“ In the agony of that impossible loss, he leapt and ran round the tree. He trod upon his lantern, and, stumbling, caught at the trunk. It seemed soft to his hand, warm and palpitating. In an access of emotion, he threw himself upon it, gripping and striving as if he would bear it down. "Your secret!" he panted; "yield it!" And suddenly it seemed to melt beneath him; soft arms came about his neck; a voice sighed in his ear: "Captured! O, captured! A moth for a moth, you dearest!" ”
