ok at you, I want nothing more. If I could have you only, I should be
perfectly happy.'

She lowered her eyes, and swayed her head as if accompanying a strain of
music. 'I love you,' he went on. 'I know nothing about you. I know
not who you are, nor whence you came. You are neither my mother nor my
sister; and yet I love you to a point that I have given you my whole
heart and kept nought of it for others. Listen, I love those cheeks of
yours, so soft and satiny; I love your mouth with its rose-sweet breath;
I love your eyes, in which I see my own love reflected; I love even
your eyelashes, even those little veins which blue the whiteness of your
temples. Ah! yes, I love you, I love you, Albine.'

'And I love you, too,' she answered. 'You are strong, and tall, and
handsome. I love you, Serge.'

For a moment or two they remained silent, enraptured. It seemed to them
that soft, flute-like music went before them, that their own words came
from some dulcet orchestra which they could not see. Shorter and shorter
became their steps as they leaned one towards the other, ever threading
their way amidst the mighty trees. Afar off through the long vista
of the colonnades were glimpses of waning sunlight, showing like a
procession of white-robed maidens entering church for a betrothal
ceremony amid the low strains of an organ.

'And why do you love me?' asked Albine again.

He only smiled, and did not answer her immediately; then he said, 'I
love you because you came to me. That expresses all.... Now we are
together and we love one another. It seems to me that I could not go on
living if I did not love you. You are the very breath of my life.'

He bent his head, speaking almost as though he were in a dream.

'One does not know all that at first. It grows up in one as one's heart
grows. One has to grow, one has to get strong.... Do you remember how
we loved one another though we didn't speak of it? One is childish and
silly at first. Then, one fine day, it all becomes clear, and bursts
out. You see, we have nothing to trouble about; we love one another
because our love and our life are one.'

Albine's head was cast back, her eyes were tightly closed, and she
scarce drew her breath. Serge's caressing words enraptured her: 'Do you
really, really love me?' she murmured, without opening her eyes.

Serge remained silent, sorely troubled that he could find nothing
further to say to prove to her the force of his love. His eyes wan