"Unless," he said, "it sinks into the unseen springs that are so deep that they are lost from sight forever."
"Lost—nothing is lost. The deepest water shall break out some day and reach the lake—the river. Then, why not now? I am one who cannot wait for eternity."
"And yet, eternity I fear, is waiting for us!"
There was a deep silence, lasting apace.
"Ah, I know," she said at last. "I know I ought to think as you do. I should be conscience stricken now, as I was then. I should be glad that you left me. But I am not—I am not. I am here, dearest, to ask you if you love me still?"—
"Love you?" he replied in a transport, holding her close, while he covered her eyes and her upturned face with kisses. "I love you as never woman was loved—as the night loves the dew in the cups of the upturned flowers—as the nightingale loves the dream that weaves its phantom webs about her bowers. I love you above everything in heaven or on earth. You knew the answer, dearest. Why did you ask?"
"I see it in your eyes. You love me still," she crooned, her beautiful white arms about his neck, "notwithstanding—"
He started. And yet, after the scene she had witnessed on that night, her doubts were but too well-founded. Yet she had not queried before.
"Strange fortunes crossed my path since I came here," he said. "Ambition lured—I followed, as one who lost his way. Would you have had me do otherwise?"
In his eyes she read the truth. Yet the shadow of that other woman had come between them as a phantom.