"There is something about you which tells me that you do not love Henry--that he has never made you feel--as I once made you feel, and could make you feel again." He stretched out his arms in pain.

"The temptation is frightful--terrible--just to kiss you once more--Darling--Oh! I cannot bear it.

I must go!" and he took a step away from her.
But _the Moment_ for Sabine had come; she could resist its force no more, every nerve in her whole body was quivering--every unknown, though half-guessed emotion was stirring her soul.

Her whole being seemed to be convulsed in one concentrated desire.

The reality had materialized the echoes she had often dimly felt from that night of long ago.
The wild passion which she had feared, and only that very evening had repudiated as being an impossible experience for her, had now overtaken her, and she could struggle no more.
"Michael!" she whispered breathlessly, and held out her arms.
With a cry of joy he clasped her to him in a fierce ecstasy.