A sense of delicious well-being possessed her, enmeshing thought in hazy lethargy, quieting pulse and mind.
Through it she heard his voice faintly; her own seemed unreal when she answered.
He said: "Speaking of love; there is only one thing possible for me, Shiela--to go on loving you.

I can't kill hope, though there seems to be none.

But there's no use in saying so to myself for it is one of those things no man believes.

He may grow tired of hoping, and, saying there is none, live on.

But neither he nor Fate can destroy hope any more than he can annihilate his soul.