Quilla made no answer, and I thought that she was angry and would go away. But she did not; indeed, she sat herself down upon the stone at my side and covered her face with her hands as I had done and began to weep as I had done. Now in my turn I asked her:
“Why do you weep?”
“Because I, too, must know loneliness, and with it shame, Lord Hurachi.”
At these words my heart beat and passion flamed up in me. Stretching out my hand I drew hers away and in the dying light gazed at the face beneath. Lo! on its loveliness there was a look which could not be misread.
“Do you, then, also love?” I whispered.
“Aye, more, I think, than ever woman loved before. From the moment when first I saw you sleeping in the moonbeams on the desert isle, I knew my fate had found me, and that I loved. I fought against it because I must, but that love has grown and grown, till now I am all love, and, having given everything, have no more left to give.”
When I heard this, making no answer, I swept her into my arms and kissed her, and there she lay upon my breast and kissed me back.
“Let me go, and hear me,” she murmured presently, “for you are strong and I am weak.”
I obeyed, and she sank back upon the stone.
“My lord,” she said, “our case is very sad, or at least my case is sad, since though you being a man may love often, I can love but once, and, my lord, it may not be.”