What harm has your poor little soul ever done that, pure as a flower, it should have been sent to the hell of this world ?" She clung to him, sobbing without sound.

"You will come back?
You will come back ?" she moaned, clasping him closer and closer.
Flamen's own eyes grew dim.

But he lied to her: "I will--I promise." It was so much easier to say so, and it would break her sorrow.

So he thought.
For the moment again he was tempted to take her with him--but, he resisted it--he would tire, and she would cling to him forever.
There was a long silence.

The bleating of the little kid in the shed without was the only sound; the gray lavender blew to and fro.
Her arms were close about his throat; he kissed them again, and kissed her eyes, her cheek, her mouth; then put her from him quickly and went out.
She ran to him, and threw herself on the damp ground and held him there, and leaned her forehead on his feet.