He looked at her tenderly.
"Opal, it simply has to be—it's Fate! If it wasn't meant to be, why have we met here like this? Do you think we two are mere toys in the grip of circumstances? Or do you believe the gods have crossed our paths again just to tantalize us? Is that why we are here, Opal, you and I—together?"
"Why, I came to rest—to see Lucerne! Most tourists come to Lucerne! It's a—pretty—place—very!" she responded, lamely.
"Well, then, account for the rest of it. Why did I come?—and at the same time?—and find you here in my mother's room? Simply a coincidence? Answer me that! Chance plays strange freaks sometimes, I'll admit, but Fate is a little more than mere chance. Why did I hear your voice, that time? Why did I see you, and follow? Why did we find ourselves so near akin—so strangely, so irresistibly drawn to each other? Answer me, Opal! Why was it, if we weren't created to be—one?"
After a moment of waiting he said, "Listen to the music, Opal! Only listen! Doesn't it remind you of dreams and visions—of fairyland, of happiness, and—love?"
But she could not answer.
At last she said slowly, "Oh, it's too late, Paul—too late!"
"Too late?" he echoed. "It's never too late to take the good the gods send! Never, while love lasts!"
"But the Count, Paul—and your fiancée! Think, Paul, think!"
"I can't think! What does the Count matter, Opal! Nothing—nothing makes any difference when you are face to face with destiny and your soul-mate calls! It has to be—it has to be!—can't you—won't you—see it?"