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Rh was even grander than this. She went over to the fountain, took a drink, climbed to the first landing and looked about her, and then without thought to the second. There she came opposite the wide open doors and the entrance to the auditorium packed with people and a croud [sic] standing outside. When they noticed a tall woman with white face and hair and black dress, one by one they stepped a little aside, so that Mrs, Comstock could see the stage. It was covered with curtains, and no one was doing anything. Just as she turned to go a sound so faint that every one leaned forward and listened, drifted down the auditorium. It was difficult to tell just what it was; after one instant half the audience looked toward the windows, for it seemed only a breath of wind rustling freshly opened leaves, just a hint of stirring air. Then the curtains were swept aside swiftly. The stage had been transformed into a lovely little corner of creation, where trees and flowers grew and moss carpeted the earth. A soft wind blew and it was the gray of dawn. Suddenly a robin began to sing, then a song sparrow joined him, and then several orioles began talking at once. The light grew stronger, the dewdrops trembled, flower perfume began to creep out to the audience; the air moved the branches gently and a rooster crowed. Then all the scene was shaken with a babel of bird notes in which you could hear a cardinal whistling, and a blue-finch piping. Back somewhere among the high branches a dove cooed and then a horse neighed shrilly. That set a blackbird