"Did you have a dream in the night?" I at last summoned courage to ask.
She did not answer, and the look in her eyes baffled me.
"Did you dream of me?" I asked huskily—almost aghast.
Still she said nothing but kept fixed upon me her inscrutable eyes.
I hardly dared to go on, but in my folly I continued.
"Did you"—stammered I—but I could not put my question in words.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she sat there just as I had seen her in my dream, save that she wore the usual chiton.
I was in an anguish of suspense, but it came to an end, for she shook her head sadly.
"Don't!" she said. "Don't!"
I fell at her feet and buried my head in her lap. She did not shrink from me. On the contrary, I felt her hand stroke my head, and I knew it was not love but compassion.