“The River Mæander,” she answered. “Our word ‘meander’ is derived from that name, because of the river’s wanderings. I was thinking how I have meandered through life, and now....”
“I have no diadem to offer you,” he said fervently; “but all that I have is yours to-night. I know nothing about you: I don’t know where you come from; I don’t know your name. I know only that you have come to me out of my dreams. It’s as though you were not real at all—just part of this Alexandrian night; and I want to hold you close to me, so that you shall not fade away from me.”
She did not answer, and presently he asked her if she had nothing to say to him.
“No,” she replied, “there is nothing to be said, Jim. This thing has come to us so quickly: it may pass away again so soon. It is better to say little.”
There came into his mind those lines of Shelley
One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it....
Yet he must needs utter that word, though the past and the future rise up to belittle it.
“I love you,” he whispered. “Monimé, I love you.”