She drew closer and looked again into his eyes.
"Yes," she said, and in her voice the joy began to sweep away all other feelings; "yes, you are indeed Lucius Sergius Fidenas—man, not shade—"
But, taking her hand, he interrupted:—
"Do you not remember the omen, my Marcia? how you said you would love me when Orcus should send back the dead from Acheron? how I accepted it? how the gods have brought all about, as was most to their honour and my joy?—for now you have indeed said that you love me."
She placed her free hand upon his shoulder saying:—
"And that which I, Marcia, daughter of Titus Manlius Torquatus, have said unto the shade, that say I to the living Lucius Sergius. Take me, love; for where thou art Caius, there shall I be Caia."
Once again he took her in his arms and kissed her upon the lips, long and tenderly. Then she drew herself back.
"You are wounded?" she said anxiously. "Forgive me that I forgot. Truly I forget all things, now—in this wonder and joy."
Sergius laughed.
"He pricked me—in the thigh, I think, but not deeply. The gods have brought me so close to the shades that I am enough akin to them not to heed little hurts."