"No, never that! Never! Nicole, it is for life, forever!" he cried with the sincerity of the moment, which is the sincerity of the lover. He was young, generous, quick to pity, and he adored her. "You do believe me?"
"Almost."
He redoubled his protestations, while Nicole, laughing through her tears, cried gaily:
"Go on, Barabant. It is good to hear. Don't stop—more, more!" At last she herself arrested his protestations: "Yes, Barabant, I believe thee. Oh, anything you can say to me I'll believe at this moment!"
"That I want thee while I live?"
"Yes."
"Forever?"
"For—ever." She drew herself up to his lips. "I have been so miserable waiting for thee."
Their lips met and they stood in the darkness as one body, while above, unheeded, from the darkness broke out the cry of life and death.