'How can I accept this from you?' he asked hoarsely.
'Accept? How can you refuse? It is my right, it is my will! Would you refuse me this one poor chance of proving that my love was unselfish? I would have killed myself to win a tender look from you at the last moment, and you shall not go away thinking less of me than I deserve. You know already that I am not the idle powerless woman you once thought me; you shall know that I can do yet more. If she is noble in your eyes, can I consent to be less so?'
Passion the most exalted possessed her. It infected Wilfrid. He felt that the common laws of intercourse between man and woman had here no application; the higher ground to which she summoned him knew no authority of the conventional. To hang his head was to proclaim his own littleness.
'You are not less noble, Beatrice,' his voice murmured.
'You have said it. So there is no longer a constraint between us. How simple it is to do for love's sake what those who do not know love think impossible. I will see her, then the last difficulty is removed. That letter has told me where she lives. If I go there to-day, I shall find her?'
'Not till the evening,' Wilfrid replied under his breath.
'When is your marriage?'
He looked at her without speaking.
'Very soon? Before the end of the session?'
'The day after to-morrow.'