If he can do this he will gather some idea of my physical state.

Let him add to his mind-picture a knowledge that on the following day something was to happen not unlike the end of the world, as prognosticated by the Book of Revelation and by most astronomers, and he will have some idea of my mental perturbations.
Add to the mixture a most mystic yet very real love affair and an assignation before that symbol of the cold fate which seems to sway the universes down to the tiniest detail of individual lives, and he may begin to understand what I, Humphrey Arbuthnot, experienced during my vigil in this sanctuary of a vanished race.
It seemed long before Yva came, but at last she did come.

I caught sight of her far away beyond the temple gate, flitting through the unholy brightness of the pillared courts like a white moth at night and seeming quite as small.

She approached; now she was as a ghost, and then drawing near, changed into a living, breathing, lovely woman.

I opened my arms, and with something like a sob she sank into them and we kissed as mortals do.
"I could not come more quickly," she said.