She, too, had risen, gazing steadily at me; and still I could not utter a word, the blood surging through me and my senses swimming. Love! It blinded me with its clamor; it frightened me with its rushing tide; it dinned in my ears, it ran riot, sweeping every vein, choking speech, while it surged on, wave on wave mounting in flame.
She stood there, pallidly uncertain, looking on the conflagration love had wrought. Then something of its purport seemed to frighten her, and she shrank away step by step, passing the portal of her chamber, retreating, yet facing me still, fascinated eyes on mine.
I heard a voice unlike my own, saying: "I love you, Elsin. Why do you repulse me?"
And as she answered nothing, I went to her and took her hand. But the dismayed eyes only widened, the color faded from her parted lips.
"Can you not see," I whispered, "can you not see I love you?"
"You—love—me!"
I caught her in my arms. A bright blush stained neck and face, and she threw back her head, avoiding my lips.
She threw back her head, avoiding my lips.
"Elsin, I beg you—I beg you to love me! Can you not see what you have done to me?—how I am awakened?"