"'I beseech you,' he said.
"'You shall never ask twice,' she answered gently. 'I will tell you, but not this moment.'
"So for a while they sat together, and the sun began to go down, and blazed on the window-panes and on the golden hair of the dying woman. She lay as if in a mist of glory, and smiled at Stoffel. He, looking at her, could not lack of being startled by the beauty that had come over her face and the joy that weighed her eyelids.
"She stirred a little, and sighed. Stoffel cast an arm round her to hold her up, and his heart bounded woefully when he felt how light she was. Her head came to his shoulder, as to a place where it belonged, and their lips met.
"'Shall I tell you now?' she said in a whisper.
"Stoffel did not answer, so she asked again. 'Will you know, Stoffel?'
"'No,' he answered. 'I'm cured.'
"'I will tell you, then,' she cried. 'No,' he repeated.
'Let it be.'
"So together they sat for a further while, and the time grew on for going. She was to die with the sun; she had said it. And as they sat both could see through the window the sun floating lower, with an edge in its grave already, and the rim of the earth black against it. The noises of the veld and the farm came in to them, and they drew closer together.
"Neither wept; they were too newly met for that. But Stoffel felt a dull pain of sorrow overmastering him, and soon he groaned aloud.