"For I love you, Sylvia." She gave him no answer.

She kept her face still hid, and only her heaving breast bore witness to her stress of feeling.

Gently he removed her hands, and holding them in his, urged his plea.
"Ever since that day in Switzerland, I have been thinking of you, Sylvia, remembering your looks, your smile, and the words you spoke.

I crossed the Col Dolent the next day, and all the time I felt that there was some great thing wanting.

I said to myself, 'I miss my friend.' I was wrong, Sylvia.