"It is there, in you—all that I believed. It was to that
I—yielded—once."
She looked intently down at him.
"I think at last you have become—my champion. . . . Not my—destroyer. Answer me, Philip!"
He would not, or could not.
"I take you—for mine," she said. "Will you deny me?"
"No, Ailsa."
She said, steadily: "The other—the lesser happiness is to be—forgotten. Answer."
"It—must be."
She bent lower, whispering: "Is there no wedlock of the spirit?"
"That is all there ever was to hope for."