Luc felt a sudden beat at his heart, as if his life was about to fulfil its most splendid promise; his eyes were dazzled by her face, which seemed to him to be suddenly illuminated from within and transfigured. Her actual presence and his cherished vision of her were for that moment fused in one; he saw her robe edged with flame, and her head crowned with points of light, and her eyes of a steady and immortal brilliance.
“Is it possible?” he said. “Is it possible?”
“You know if it is or no,” she answered, and took a sudden step towards him with her head high.
To his unfaltering gaze she was as unsubstantial as the sunbeams about her and as mysterious as the living flowers growing in the dusty old wall.
“I cannot believe it,” said Luc—“that this is going to happen to me!”
“Hush!” she whispered, “hush!”
If he had put out his hand he could have touched her, but he made no movement, and she paused when there was a foot between them.
“Won’t you speak to me?” he said. “Tell me how much I may dare?”
She never ceased to gaze at him.
“You know—everything,” she answered. “Why need we speak?”