She was something more--now--than the woman he loved.

She was a little child, to be carried in his arms, to be sheltered from the wind and the cold until the last drop of blood had ceased to flow in his veins.

His was the mighty privilege now to mother her until the end came for them both--or some miracle saved them.

The last barrier was gone from between them.
That he had met her only yesterday was an unimportant incident now.

The world had changed, life had changed, a long time had passed.