He _would_ see her, he would kiss her, he would hold her in his arms, he would, he must.

The very elements helped him as he ran back to the place where he knew she had paused to watch him.

Why had she come back! She knew her power only too well.

Why had she come to exercise it?
It was mad of her, wicked of her, it meant his ruin, and yet he was glad, yet he rejoiced.
The moments seemed endless until he could reach her.

Beatrice was as absolutely forgotten by him at this moment as if she had never existed.
At last he gained the spot where Josephine had brushed past him in the darkness.