Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life shall I command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forebore—
Thy touch upon the palm——
(Ellis, the footman, enters carrying a tray with a cup and saucer, and some sliced lemon. Lady Patricia raises her hand to command silence. He stands rigid. She continues with scarcely a break:)
The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy hand in mine,