I understand now, in the calm of this place and with the sunlight before me, that my belief as to her being all woman--living woman--was not quite dead: but though at the moment my heart did not recognize the doubt, my brain did.

And I made up my mind that we should not part this time until she knew that I had seen her, and where; but, despite my own thoughts, my outer ears listened greedily as she went on.
"As for me, you may not find _me_, but _I_ shall find _you_, be sure! And now we must say 'Good-night,' my dear, my dear! Tell me once again that you love me, for it is a sweetness that one does not wish to forego--even one who wears such a garment as this--and rests where I must rest." As she spoke she held up part of her cerements for me to see.
What could I do but take her once again in my arms and hold her close, close.

God knows it was all in love; but it was passionate love which surged through my every vein as I strained her dear body to mine.

But yet this embrace was not selfish; it was not all an expression of my own passion.

It was based on pity--the pity which is twin-born with true love.