“My love!” I said softly, and held out my arms to her.
“What is it?” she whispered. “Oh, what is it?”
“I do not know. They are preparing something, awaiting something. It is the end perhaps.”
“The end!” she echoed hoarsely. “The end!” and she stared up into my eyes, her lips trembling.
“And if it were,” I questioned gently, “would you not wish to meet it with my arms about you? Oh, they are longing for you!”
She did not answer, but I fancied she swayed toward me.
In an instant she was close against my heart—close against my heart!
“Since this is the end,” I said softly, “since there is no future, you are going to love me, are you not, Charlotte? And there is a future! In a moment more nothing can ever part us—your soul and mine! Look at me, my love!”
The tears were streaming down her face as she lifted it to mine.
“Kiss me!” she whispered. “Kiss me!”