She put her hand to his forehead and found that it was covered with an icy perspiration. She was startled.
"Something must be the matter with you. Do say something. Why don't you talk? I've never seen you like this before."
He endeavored to make a jest of it, but his voice was quite different from his usual voice. She began to weep.
"I don't know what has happened. I don't know what is the matter with you. You are concealing something from me."
He took her in his arms and kissed her in a sudden outburst of passion which was far from reassuring her.
"Heavens, you are crying too," she said.
"Only because you are grieved. You must know I worship you."
"Yes, yes. Tell me so! Say it again!"
"Can you doubt it, dearest?"
"I should die if I doubted it. But all the same, tell me that you love me. I like it. Take me in your arms again and kiss me . . . kiss me. Let us mingle our tears. It's so good."