The woman said; "I am the Princess Ajita."

The poet with a great effort sat up on his bed.

The princess whispered into his car: "The king has not done you justice.

It was you who won at the combat, my poet, and I have come to crown you

with the crown of victory."

She took the garland of flowers from her own neck, and put it on his

hair, and the poet fell down upon his bed stricken by death.

The Hungry Stones, and Other Stories · 第 8 / 58 题