The countess clung to him tenderly. "Have you forgotten me?"
He threw his arm around her. "Why, sweet one?"
"I mean," she said, with childlike grace, "that if you thought of me, you could not be so sad."
"My child, I forget you at the moment I am resigning Heaven for your sake. You do not ask that seriously. As for the pain, let me endure it--for if I could do this with a light heart, would the sacrifice be worthy of you? By the anguish it costs me you must measure the greatness of my love, if you can."
"I can, for even while I rest upon your heart, while my lips eagerly inhale your breath, I pine with longing for your lost divinity."
"And no longer love me as you did when I was the Christ. Be frank--it will come!"
He pressed his hands upon his breast, while his eyes rested mournfully on the shining robe which seemed to beckon to him from the gloom.
"Oh, what are you saying! You sacrifice for me the greatest possession which man ever resigned for woman; the illusion of deity--and I am to punish you for the renunciation by loving you less? Joseph, what you give me, no king can bestow. Crowns have been sacrificed for a woman's sake, crowns of gold--but never one like this!"
"My wife!" he murmured in sweet, mournful tones, while his dark eyes searched hers till her very soul swooned under the power of the look.
She clasped her hands upon his breast. "Will you grant me one favor?"