“It has come to stay,” she whispered, in a way that gave the sweetest significance to the phrase that has become vulgarized.
“It came to stay with me for ever,” he said. “I knew it, and I felt myself saying, ‘Here by God’s grace is the one maid for me.’”
He did not falter as he looked down upon her face—he said the words “God’s grace” without the least hesitancy.
The moonlight that had been glistening on the ivy of the broken arches of the ancient Priory, was now shining through the diamond panes of the window at which they were sitting. As her head lay back it was illuminated by the moon. Her hair seemed delicate threads of spun glass through which the light was shining.
One of the candles flared up for a moment in its socket, then dwindled away to a single spark and then expired.
“You remember?” she whispered.
“The seal-cave,” he said. “I have often wondered how I dared to tell you that I loved you.”
“But you told me the truth.”
“The truth. No, no; I did not love you then as I regard loving now. Oh, my Beatrice, you have taught me what ‘tis to love. There is nothing in the world but love, it is life—it is life!”
“And there are none in the world who love as you and I do.”