.

"Come to me, and you shall know. I will show you in what narrow paths
you have been wandering. I will show you how beautiful a woman's love
can make your life!"

"If we can love and be pure," he said hoarsely, "what is sin? What is
that?"

He was standing by the window, and he pointed westwards with shaking
finger. The roar of Piccadilly and Regent Street came faintly into the
little room. She understood him.

"You have a great deal to learn, dear," she whispered softly.
"Remember this first, and before all, Love can sanctify everything."

"But they too loved in the beginning!"

She shook her head.

"That they never could have done. Love is eternal. If it fades or
dies, then it never was love. Then it was sin."

"But those poor creatures! How are they to tell between the true love
and the false?"

She stamped her foot, and a quiver of passion shook her frame.

"We are not talking about them. We are talking about ourselves! Do you
doubt your love or mine?"

"I cannot," he answered. "Berenice!"

"Yes!"

"Did you ever tell--your husband that you loved him?"

"Never!"

"Did he love you?"

"I believe, so far as he knew how to love anything,--he did."

"And now?"

She waved her hand impatiently.

"He has forgotten. He was shallow, and he was fond of life. He has
found consolation long ago. Do not talk of him. Do not dare to speak
of him again! Oh, why do you make me humble myself so?"

"He may not have forgotten. He may have repented. He may be longing
for you now,--and suffering. Should we be sinless then?"

She swept from her place, and stood before him with flashing eyes.

"I forbid you to remind me of my shame. I forbid you to remind me
that I, too, like those poor women on the street, have been bought and
sold for money! I have worked out my own emancipation. I am free. It
was while I was living with him as his wife that I sinned,--for I
hated him! Speak to me no more of that time! If you cannot forget it,
you had better go!"

He stretched out his hands and held hers tightly.

"Berenice, if you were alone in the world, and there was some great
barrier to our marriage, I would not hesitate any longer. I would take
you to myself. Don't think too hardly of me. I am like a man who is
denying himself heaven. But your husband lives. You belong to him. You
do not know whether he is in prosperity, or whether he has forgotten.
You do not know whether he has repented, or whether his life is stil