Forever,--not even death would part them; he knew that, holding her closer, looking down into her face.
What a pale little face it was! Through the intensest heat of his passion the sting touched him.

Some instinct made her glance up at him, with a keen insight, seeing the morbid gloom that was the man's sin, in his face.

She lifted her head from his breast, and when he stooped to touch her lips, shook herself free, laughing carelessly.
Alas, Stephen Holmes! you will have little time for morbid questionings in those years to come: her cheerful work has begun: no more self-devouring reveries: your very pauses of silent content and love will be rare and well-earned.

No more tranced raptures for to-night,--let to-morrow bring what it would.
"You do not seem to find your purer self altogether perfect ?" she demanded.

"I think the pale skin hurts your artistic eye, or the frozen eyes,--which is it ?" "They have thawed into brilliant fire,--something looks at me half-yielding and half-defiant,--you know that, you vain child! But, Margret, nothing can atone"---- He stopped.
"Yes, stop.