Paul was as a god, knowing not merely good and evil, but love and light.
“It is my kisses you will long and hunger for, my arms which should be round you, not his.”
He looked at her. She had started when he began.
“His never are,” she said, while she longed to ask how he knew this, but she felt to acknowledge he knew was to acknowledge him right.
“You won’t let him now, but his arms will be round you. There is no escape from them once you are married. Think how you will feel when he is with you always, and you can never get away. You will see my face when his is close to you, you will feel—”
“Paul! Paul!”
“You would like to say, ‘Why persecutest thou me?’ They say girls often marry from ignorance and wish they had not. Launa, you will not be ignorant. Without love marriage is a loathsome Hell; with it, darling, it is Heaven. Such a Heaven! You are mine, as much mine as if five priests had read hundreds of words over us. Give him up! give him up!”
“I wish I could die, knowing you love me.”
“I would rather see you dead than his wife.”
“Paul, I love you.”