She started to speak, then her eyes fell. She laughed uncertainly. “Which one among us, if you please—mizilour skler ha brillant deuz ar fidelite?”
“Met na varwin Ket Kontant, ma na varwan fidel,” 329 I said, slowly, as the words of the song came back to me. “I shall choose only the fairest and loveliest, madame. You know it is always that way in the story.” My voice was not perfectly steady, nor was hers when she smiled and wished me happiness and a long life with the maid of Paradise I had chosen, even though I took her by force.
Then constraint crept in between us, and I was grimly weighing the friendship this woman had given me—weighing it in the balance against a single hope.
Once she looked across at me with questioning eyes in which I thought I read dawning disappointment. It almost terrified me.... I could not lose her confidence,... I could not, and go through life without it.... But I could live a hopeless life to its end with that confidence.... And I must do so,... and be content.
“I suppose,” said I, thinking aloud, “that I had better go to England.”
“When?” she asked, without raising her head.
“In a day or two. I can find employment there, I think.”
“Is it necessary that you find employment ... so soon?”
“Yes,” I said, with a meaningless laugh, “I fear it is.”
“What will you do?”