He looked at her as she smiled down upon him through her tears. He caught his breath gaspingly. With his sound left hand he clutched her left which hung at the level of his head.
'I am mad, of course,' he choked.
'Not mad, Bellarion. Only stupid. Do you still covet nothing?'
'Aye, one thing!' His face glowed. 'One thing that would change into a living glory the tinsel glitter of the world, one thing that would make life ... O God! What am I saying?'
'Why do you break off, Bellarion?'
'I am afraid!'
'Of me? Is there anything I could deny you, who have given all to serve me? Must I in return offer you all I have? Can you claim nothing for yourself?'
'Valeria!'
She stooped to kiss his lips. 'My very hate of you in all these years was love dissembled. Because my spirit leapt to yours, almost from that first evening in the garden there, did it so wound and torture me to discover baseness in you. I should have trusted my own heart, rather than my erring senses, Bellarion. You warned me early that I am not good at inference. I have suffered as those suffer who are in rebellion against themselves.'
He pondered her, very pale and sorrowful. 'Yes,' he said slowly, 'I have the fever, as you said awhile ago. It must be that.'