"And you come to me?" It was so difficult to believe. "Ah, but you heard what the vicomte said that day?" a shade of gloom mingling with the gladness on his face.
"I saw only you in the doorway, defending my honor with your life. I tried to tell you then that I loved you, but I could not."
"I am not worthy," he said, rising from his knees.
"I love you!"
"I have been a gamester."
"I love you!" The music in her voice deepened and vibrated. The strings of the harp of life gave forth their fullest sound.
"I have been a roisterer by night. I have looked into the bottom of many an unwise cup."
"Do you not hear me say that I love you? There is no past now, Paul; there is nothing but the future. Once, I promised in a letter that if you found me you might take what I had always denied you, my lips."
He put his arms around her and took from her glowing lips that fairest and most perfect flower which grows in the garden of love: the first kiss.
And there was no shadow between.