At length he turned…. She was there. She was as he, unseeing, had seen; as he had known that he should see…. He had ceased to wonder. The Unknown had taught him so much that of the things it had not taught, he had ceased to wonder….
He looked; and looked away. She laughed, a little, lightly. She turned a little, lissomely. He could see the muscles of her straight, slender shape ripple beneath the shimmering black gown.
At length he spoke, roughly, gruffly:
"Well?"
Almost caressingly, she answered:
"Well?"
"So you've come to gaze upon the ruin you have wrought, eh?"
Again she laughed.
"Upon the ruin we have wrought, My Fool," she corrected.
"Don't call me that," he muttered. "It hurts. It hurts because it's true."