"No, and I would not have you recollect that time, since we are united again."
"United again!" she echoed dreamily. "O Loyd, teach me to understand how we have ever been separated!"
"Rather let me teach you how fondly I love you," he whispered; "let me convince you that every heart-throb of ours distances the past—the dead past and its shadows. Let your very soul be witness to my avowal when I tell you that I love you! Paula, I love you!"
"Paula!"
She spoke the name after him in no surprise, with no intonation of perplexity. It left her lips lingeringly, as though its sound was pleasing to her ear.
"Yes, Paula," he answered eagerly; "you are Paula, Paula to me, but Romaine to the rest of the world."
"How strange," she faltered with that dreamy smile, as if fascinated.
"But you comprehend," he insisted—"you appreciate the distinction?"
"Oh, yes."
"Answer to every name in Christendom, if you will, save Paula; you are Paula alone for me!"