He turned a shade paler. Then it was true!
“Beatrice,” he said in a half whisper, “what do they mean?”
“As much as anything else, or as little,” she answered.
“What are people to do who dream such dreams?” he said again, in the same constrained voice.
“Forget them,” she whispered.
“And if they come back?”
“Forget them again.”
“And if they will not be forgotten?”
She turned and looked him full in the eyes.
“Die of them,” she said; “then they will be forgotten, or——”