But most of all he saw her as she had been that last night in the great library, frail and white in her floating draperies.
"You have spoiled everything," she had said.
How had he spoiled everything?
In one moment he would resolve to have it out with her. In the next he would plan to go away, to give her up, to forget her.
A few weeks ago he had not known her. He had liked many women, but had loved none. He had been heart-whole and fancy free. And now his life, his happiness, all of his future, were bound up in this little pale child with the wonderful hair!
Up and up, higher and higher. It was like the flight of an eagle.
And far below, on a porch which overhung the harbor, two women watched with beating hearts.
"Oh, why will he do it?" Sophie asked, in agonized tones. "It is so dangerous."
Bettina caught her breath. "Somehow I can't think of the danger," she said. "He isn't afraid, and to me it seems—very wonderful—as if he had wings, and could fly—straight up—to heaven——"
As Justin had thought all that week of Bettina, so she had thought of him; every moment of the day, and into the night, the vision was upon her.