And Aranyani sighed, and she said very slowly, still looking at the ground: I know not, for I have thought of absolutely nothing, since I saw thee, but thyself; and that was enough for me, and more; since my soul was so full that it had room for nothing else. And all the past had vanished, and the future did not matter, swallowed up in the present which was ecstasy, and intoxication, and thou. How could I think of anything at all? And now thou hast suddenly awaked me from a dream, which in my folly I had imagined would never have an end, but last for ever. And lo! it is gone, and all is over, and finished, almost before it has begun. And Atirupa said in a whisper: Say rather, O Aranyani, that the dream is only just beginning. And she answered angrily: Dost thou think it then so easy for a flower to consent to be torn up by the roots, and carried from its home no matter where? For like a flower I am rooted in this wood, where I have lived and grown since the beginning, with my father and the trees, and the creepers, and the deer. And now thou hast placed thyself, with a sudden flash of lightning, in opposition to it all; and thou wouldst make me choose, threatening to go away and leave me, unless I sacrifice it all, to go into the darkness, I know not where, with thee. Dost thou think the choice is easy which will utterly destroy me, whichever way it falls? Thou art the cause of all, and resemblest a knife, that bids me to consent and rejoice, while it cuts my heart in two, possessing absolutely no heart whatever of its own.