Jean—I see many people; they are coming in boats. They come very near, and they look this way most pleasantly.
Angelica—(Whispering) Are they the “saints immortal”?
Jean—I think they must be, dearest Angelica.
Angelica—Oh, Jean, dearest, dearest Jean! (A pause.) Stay with me, Jean! (She puts one arm about Jean’s neck and rests her face down, covering her eyes from the light.)
Jean—Angelica, love, cling to me and I will buoy you and lead you. (They touch their feet to the water’s edge.)
Angelica—The water! (She says it breathlessly.) Must we step in?
Jean—But look onward, onward, beloved! (They slowly move down the steps into the water. Jean clings to the stone buttress and supports Angelica.)
Angelica—The water is deeper. (She shrinks back terrified.) I feel a something drawing my feet, drawing me away from you. O, where are you, Jean? (She reaches out her arms and moves them blindly. Jean, in the utmost tenderness, brings them to his neck.)
Jean—Here I am, dear! If you cannot see as they see in the light of The World Above, you can still know that it is I, even by the self-same way you knew me in The Darker Realm. Put your hand on my face, if the light blinds your eyes, and then you will know.
(She lays her hand lightly on his brow. Then with a long sigh of bliss:)