“Nothing—save that last night I tried to kill you, body and soul.”
“And why did you not kill me?”
“Because you woke. Then the nun saved you. If she had not come, you would have slept again, and slept for ever. And I would have let his dreams last, and made it last—for him, I should have been the only Beatrice.”
“You have done all this, and you ask me to forgive you?”
“I ask nothing. If you will not go to him, I will bring him to you—”
Beatrice turned away and walked across the room.
“Loved her,” she said aloud, “and talked to her of love, and kissed—” She stopped suddenly. Then she came back again with swift steps and grasped Unorna’s arm fiercely.
“Tell me more still—this dream has lasted long—you are man and wife!”
“We might have been. He would still have thought me you, for months and years. He would have had me take from his finger that ring you put there. I tried—I tell you the whole truth—but I could not. I saw you there beside me and you held my hand. I broke away and left him.”
“Left him of your free will?”