The young man took her extended hands in his, bent down and kissed them reverently; then looked back at her gravely, resolutely, though he was white to the lips.
"But not under compulsion, not out of pity?" he said. "Now, even now, with the consummation of all my hopes and desire within my grasp, I would rather you sent me away than, than—that—"
La belle Gabrielle shook her head gently, smiling.
"No, no," she answered. "Not under compulsion, not out of pity, mon ami; but because I find nature is too strong for me. Because I find I too love, and find—since you will have me lay bare my heart and tell you everything—it is you, precisely and solely you, whom I love."
And from the inner room—into which Anastasia Beauchamp had passed unperceived by her two guests during this, for them, momentous colloquy—came strains of heroic music, good for the soul.
THE END