With a little catch in her voice she demanded:
"Don't you think of yourself at all?"
"It's more pleasant to think of you!"
She made a little pause. Then she softly whispered:
"Money doesn't count down here!" And lifted her face to mine.
I took her in my arms and kissed her whilst she clung to me in the darkness. Then she dropped to her knees and crawled into the opening. For a few instants the yellow glimmer of the candle was obscured and I heard her breathing hard. Then the faint glimmer of light reappeared and I heard her voice from the other side.
"There's a winding passage and the air is quite fresh. The wind is blowing in my face. Good-bye, Desmond dear!"
"Au revoir, my dear!" I cried out of the darkness and silence fell again.
I stood there listening for a spell, then, following the advice of the French sage who said that he who sleeps dines, I stretched myself out on the rocky floor and soon fell into a heavy slumber.
*****