Wallulah shrank away from him, and strove to free herself from his embrace.
“Let me go,” she said, in a low, stifled tone. “Oh, if I could only die!”
But he held her close, almost crushing the delicate form against his breast. She felt his heart beat deeply and painfully against her own, and in some way it came to her that every throb was agony, that he was in the extremity of mental and physical suffering.
“God help me!” he said; “how can I give you up?”
She realized by woman’s intuition that his whole soul was wrung with pain, with an agony darker and bitterer than her own; and the exceeding greatness of his suffering gave her strength. A sudden revulsion of feeling affected her. She looked up at him with infinite tenderness.
“I wish I could take all the pain away from you and bear it myself.”
“It is God’s will; we must submit to it.”
“His will!” Her voice was full of rebellion. “Why does he give us such bitter suffering? Doesn’t he care? I thought once that God was good, but it is all dark now.”
“Hush, you must not think so. After all, it will be only a little while till we meet in heaven, and there no one can take you from me.”