He is there.

She has him again.
She throws open the door.

It is dark indeed in the chamber, but she sees him, for the eye of love pierces the night; and if the sees him not, yet she feels his presence.
She rests on his heart; he presses her closely to his breast.

Leaning on each other, they grope cautiously along through the dark, desolate chamber to the divan at the upper end, and there, both locked in a happy embrace, they sink upon the cushion.
"At last I have you again! and my arms again clasp this divine form, and again my lips press this crimson mouth! Oh, my beloved, what an eternity has this separation been! Six days! Six long nights of agony! Have you not felt how my soul cried out for you, and was filled with trepidation; how I stretched my arms out into the night, and let them fall again disconsolate and trembling with anguish, because they clasped nothing--naught but the cold, vacant night breeze! Did you not hear, my beloved, how I cried to you with sighs and tears, how in glowing dithyrambics I poured forth to you my longing, my love, my rapture?
But you, cruel you, remained ever cold, ever smiling.

Your eyes were ever flashing in all the pride and grandeur of a Juno.