t her stop,
with kisses that resembled snowflakes that burned as they fell.

And at last, I let her go. And holding her two hands, I gazed at her
for a while in adoration, while she looked at me as if patiently
waiting to be released, with a little smile. And I said: Now then I
will obey thee, and go: for thou hast given me something that will
keep me alive. And yet thou art cheating me by sending me away before
the time, and thou owest me the rest. Promise me, that thou wilt
summon me to-morrow, or I cannot go away, even if I try. For if I go,
not knowing when I shall see thee again, I will slay myself on thy
palace steps.

And she drew away her hands, very gently, and turned away, and stood
looking down upon the ground, reflecting. And I watched her, as I
waited, with anxiety: for she seemed to be meditating, not so much of
me, as of something unknown to me, that stood in the way of her
decision. And then at last, she turned towards me, looking at me, as
it seemed, with pity. And she said, almost sadly, and yet with a
smile: Poor moth, thou wilt only burn away thy wings. Thou little
knowest, what eyes are on thee, or the danger thou art running by
overestimating me, and coming here at all. And yet, the mischief has
been done, and thou art greatly to be pitied, having fallen under a
spell: and thou art suffering from a fever to which nothing can bring
any alleviation but myself. And it would be far better to refuse thee,
since to grant thy request cannot possibly do thee any good. And yet I
cannot find it in my heart to deny thee what thou cravest, since I am
myself the involuntary cause of all thy delusion, and can give thee
such extraordinary pleasure, with so very little trouble to myself.
And so, I will give thee thy desire, and to-morrow's sunset shall be
thine.

And I uttered a cry of joy. And utterly unable to control my emotion,
I caught her once more in my arms, kissing her passionately with
trembling lips. And suddenly I shuddered with delight, for I felt her
lips kissing me again. And my senses reeled, and I murmured with
emotion: Ah! thou lady of my dream, art thou real, or am I still only
dreaming after all? And she stood back, putting me away with her hand,
and she said, gently: I am real, but thou seest me through the eyes of
thy dream. For what is there, after all, in me, save what thou puttest
there thyself, with the aid of thy fancy, and thy passion, and the
recollection of thy dream?

And I loo