I was silent--battling violently with the foolish desire that had sprung up within me, the desire to draw this witching fragile thing to my heart, to cover her lips with kisses--to startle her with the passion of my embraces! But I forced the mad impulse down and stood mute.

She watched me--slowly she lifted her hand from where it had rested, and passed it with a caressing touch through my hair.
"No--you do not really LOVE me," she whispered--"but I will tell you the truth--_I_ LOVE YOU!" And she drew herself up to her full height and smiled again as she uttered the lie.

I knew it was a lie--but I seized the hand whose caresses stung me, and held it hard, as I answered: "YOU love ME?
No, no--I cannot believe it--it is impossible!" She laughed softly.

"It is true though," she said, emphatically, "the very first time I saw you I knew I should love you! I never even liked my husband, and though in some things you resemble him, you are quite different in others--and superior to him in every way.

Believe it or not as you like, you are the only man in all the world I have ever loved!" And she made the assertion unblushingly, with an air of conscious pride and virtue.