The man always loved her memory, in spite of this wrong which she had done.

The two died and were buried; hundreds and hundreds of years they remained buried, and the dust of them mixed with the dust of the earth.

But in the perpetual order of things, a pure love never can die, though bodies may die and pass away.

So after many generations the pure love which this man had for a bad woman was born again in the heart of another man--the same, yet not the same.
And the spirit of the woman that long ago had done the wrong, also found incarnation again; and the two meeting, are drawn to each other by what people call love, but what is really Greater Memory, the recollection of past lives.

But now all is happiness for them, because the weaker and worse part of each has really died and has been left hundreds of years behind, and only the higher nature has been born again.