“Death could not sunder our hearts even here, my Monica,” said Randolph. “Some love is for eternity.”
“Yes,” she answered, looking out over the wide sea with a deep smile, that seemed as if it were reading the future in the vast, heaving expanse of moon-lit water. “Our love is like that—not for time alone, but for eternity.”
He caught the gravity of her mood. Some subtle sympathy drew them ever closer and more close together.
“And so,” he added gravely and tenderly, “we need fear nothing; for nothing can alter that one great thing. Nothing can change our love. We belong to one another always—always.”
She stood very still and quiet.
“Yes,” she said, “for ever and ever. Randolph, if we could both die to-night I think it would be a happy thing for us.”
“Why?”
“Because then there would be no parting to fear.”
“And now?”
“Now I do fear it. I fear it without knowing why. He will part us if he can.”