Her lips were a little parted, her eyes were moist, her bosom was rising and falling as though she were shaken by some wonderful emotion.
"Dear!" she murmured.
It seemed to him that she leaned a little towards him.

His heart ached with longing.

Very slowly, almost reverently, his hands touched her shoulders, drew her towards him.
"You and I," he whispered, "at least we live in the same world.

Nothing will ever be able to take the joy of that thought from my heart." She remained quite passive.

In her eyes there was a far-away look.
"Dear," she said softly in his ear, "you are such a dreamer, aren't you--such a dear unpractical person?
Have you never used your wonderful imagination to ask yourself what money may really mean?
You can buy a world of beautiful things, you can buy the souls of men and women, you can buy the law." He felt a cold pain in his heart.