“Have I not done all this for you, and much more, too?”
“There’s one day due me. To-morrow is our anniversary.”
“To-morrow, Edith,” he repeated, with some emotion.
All trembling with her memories she stood erect again.
“Don’t spoil this day that’s left us. Since it’s the last, let’s have it the most beautiful of our year that has run away drop by drop. Don’t let us talk of the future before to-morrow. Will you promise me?”
He smiled at so much ecstasy.
“I’ll do as you wish.”
“Then I’ll go and dress. It won’t take long. And we’ll go out together. We’ll have lunch on the island.”
She disappeared, and during her absence he tried to begin again at his work on the translation. But for the second time he began the phrase from Lamartine:
“The predestined fate of the child is the home in which it was born——” And again he paused.