"There is a great gulf between you and me, Theodora. I know that. Will you cross it? Will you come to me?"
She came to him. He gathered her into his arms as he might a little child, never to be cold again; he felt her full heart throb passionately against his own; he took from her burning lips the first pure, womanly kiss: she was all his. But when she turned her head, there was a quick upward glance of her eyes, he knew not whether of appeal or thanks. There was a Something in the world more near and real to her than he; he loved her the better for it: yet until he found that Unknown God, they were not one.
It was an uncertain step broke the silence, cracking the crusted snow.
"Why, Gaunt!" said Palmer, "what are you doing in the cold? Come to the fire, boy!"
He could afford to speak cordially, heartily, out of the great warmth in big own breast. Theodora was heaping shavings on the ashes. Gaunt took them from her.
"Let me do it," he muttered. "I'd like to make your whole life warm, Dode,—your life, and—any one's you love."
Dode's face flushed with a happy smile. Even David never would think of her as alone again. Poor David! She never before had thought how guileless he was,—how pitiful and solitary his life.
"Come home with us," she said, eagerly, holding out her hand.
He drew back, wiping the sweat from his face.
"You cannot see what is on my hand. I can't touch you, Dode. Never again. Let me alone."