Now from her own suffering she lifted to Otto her face, wherein was reflected the great love she bore him.
He looked at her with all the love of his soul in his eyes.
"I am dying," he spoke calmly, "I know it."
An outcry of mortal anguish broke from her lips.
"No, no, no!" she moaned, entwining him with her arms. "Otto, my love—you will live,—live—live— Can you fancy us parted," she sobbed, "one from the other for ever? Or can you go from me and leave me to the great loneliness of the world? To me all on earth, but you, seems a fleeting shadow; but in this hour, I think only of the greater pang of my own fate, and pray that in another world I may be judged more mercifully,—even by you."
For some moments they remained locked in close embrace.
"Kiss me!" he whispered hungrily. "Kiss me, Stephania!"
She drew back.
"My kisses are cold, Otto, cold as those of a dead love."
"Kiss me, Stephania," he moaned, "kiss me, even if your kisses were death itself."