As he spoke, he produced a plain gold hoop, set with three perfect pearls, and held it before her eyes.
"Pearls!" she murmured sadly; "pearls are ill-fated; they mean tears."
He cast his arm about her waist and drew her to him, still holding the ring within range of her vision.
"All portents, all auguries, all superstitions fail in our case!" he cried exultantly. "We are exempt from all baleful influences now! These pearls may once have signified tears, but now there are no more tears whence they came; they are petrified, and symbolize our happy reunion. In this supreme moment of our love, try to recollect—Paula, do you not recognize these pearls?"
A spasm of actual pain crossed the beautiful face, the result of intense mental exertion.
"O Loyd, I cannot recollect!" she faltered piteously; "and yet—. Did you not promise to help me to recall the past?"
"Yes, my darling!" he exclaimed, his passion exceeding all bounds; "and I will fulfil that promise when we have wearied of the blessed present! A new promise I will make you here and now, and that is never again to torture you with unavailing considerations; only tell me once again that you love me with all your renewed strength, with all your purified soul!"
She raised her arms and wound them about his neck.
"Loyd, I love you," she answered steadily; "I love you—love you as the angels in heaven love!"
"Of whom you are one!"