She was tall; this is the first thing I noticed. Like the white-hot glow of Gabriel, with streaming starlight tearing at the edges of her shape, there was something else in her gossamer form. She drifted across the top of the white ground like a leaf falling in a sky without wind. And, as silently as that leaf falling, her hands and arms moved like long grass in a rising river. The fingers and the hands, I recall, rolled and beckoned lightly when a new breeze came through, and a new sound came from them were the tones of bells freshly rung.
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