"But for the mistake I made this might happen to me always," she thought, and her mind went back to Arthur.
When she came out of her room, wearing a fresh linen blouse, with her hair smoothly brushed, and her eyes sparkling with pleasure, he was gazing abstractedly down into the street, and she was obliged to speak twice to him before he heard her and turned.

At last he broke away, almost with an effort, from his meditation, and when he looked at her she saw that there was the mystic gleam in his eyes--the light as of a star shining through clouds--which attracted her so strongly.

The thought flashed through her vague impressions, "He loves me.

I may win him by a smile, by a word, by a look," and, for a minute, she rested on the certainty with an ineffable sense of peace, of ease, of deep inward rejoicing.

"Love is everything.