"Oh! no! no—it cannot be true. It is another story. Oh, why did you tell me?"
"It is true. The man who was with him when he died was here a moment ago."
"Ah, you were right," she said faintly. "It is almost too much."
Brett's arm went round her and drew her towards him.
"No," he answered, speaking gently in her ear, "not too much for you and me to bear together. Think of all that has died with him—think of all the horror and misery and danger and fear that he has taken out of the world with him. Think that there is nothing now between you and me. Nothing—not the shadow of a nothing. That our lives are our own now, and each the other's, yours mine, mine yours, forever and always. Ah, Marion, dear, is that too much to bear?"
"Almost," she said as her head sank upon his shoulder. "Ah, God! that hell and heaven should be so near."
"And such a heaven! Love! Darling! Sweetheart! Look at me!"
"Harry!" She opened her eyes. "Love! No—find me other words for all you are to me."
She drew his face down to hers and their lips met.