"I don't mean to say I didn't often want friends of my own age--girl friends especially." "You can't have them now!"-- he said, passionately, as they paused at a wicket-gate, under a yew-tree.

"I want you all--all--to myself." And in the shadow of the yew he put his arms round her again, and their hearts beat together.
But our nature moves within its own inexorable limits.

In Diana, Marsham's touch, Marsham's embrace awakened that strange mingled happiness, that happiness reared and based on tragedy, which the pure and sensitive feel in the crowning moments of life.

Love is tortured by its own intensity; and the thought of death strikes through the experience which means the life of the race.

As her lips felt Marsham's kiss, she knew, as generations of women have known before her, that life could give her no more; and she also knew that it was transiency and parting that made it so intolerably sweet.
"Till death us do part," she said to herself.