He drew back the crimson curtains draping the big French windows, which opened upon a balcony. The silver stiletto rays darted a greeting to him. He swung open the windows.
"Come out with me and see my friends," he said.
She rose instantly and followed him.
He stood there a moment in silence, his head back as he seemed to lead her into the limitless fragrant purple above. She caught his profile and saw him like some prophet. It was as though a people were at his back and he trying to pierce the road ahead for them. The thin face and erect head seemed to dominate the night. He looked down at her, a sad smile about his mouth.
"Out here," he said, "out here with a million miles over our heads we are freer."
In her eyes he saw now just what he saw in the stars, the same freedom of unpathed universes. He saw the same limitlessness. Here there were no boundaries. A man could go on forever and forever in those eyes—in their marvelous unfolding. More! More! He would go beyond the cognate universe, straight into the golden heart of universes beyond. Eternity was written there. The beacon of her eyes flamed a path that reached beyond the stars!
She seemed like nothing but a trusting child. So, she was one with the great poets. So, she was a great poem. He listened to the same music which had moved Isaiah.
"The stars,—they seem to be dancing!" she exclaimed.
It was to the music of the spheres they were dancing.
"You!" he commanded, "you must get away from this house. You must take Ben and get away from here. You must go into a new country. You must begin your life anew and forget all this, forget everything."