With that exception, she stayed close beside me, now kneeling by my bed and fervently praying, now sitting with her eyes upon mine.

So then, for these six hours I drank in her beauty, and silently perused the story in her face.

I saw the golden coin hover on her breaths; I saw her eyes darken and brighter, and still speak no language but that of an unfathomable kindness; I saw the faultless face, and, through the robe, the lines of the faultless body.

Night came at last, and in the growing darkness of the chamber, the sight of her slowly melted; but even then the touch of her smooth hand lingered in mine and talked with me.

To lie thus in deadly weakness and drink in the traits of the beloved, is to reawake to love from whatever shock of disillusion.