She longed to hear it all again, wondering greatly how it could never have been not good to hear.
Then with the greater temptation came the less, enclosed within it, suddenly revealed to her.

There was but one thing she hated in it all.
That was the name.

Would he not give her another--her own perhaps?
She trembled as she thought of speaking.

Would she still have Beatrice's voice?
Might not her own break down the spell and destroy all at once?
Yet she had spoken once before.

She had told him that she loved him and he had not been undeceived.
"Beloved--" she said at last, lingering on the single word and then hesitating.
He looked into her face as he drew her to him, with happy eyes.