And as he spoke, he felt Aranyani on his breast, sobbing till she shook him, as if to say, Cease, for thou art driving a knife into my heart. And yet he went on slowly, as if his very object were to stab her to the quick. And then, all at once he changed. And he whispered in her ear: Dear cousin, why dost thou so obstinately destroy thyself and me? What! dost thou make believe to love me, calling thyself slave, and yet refuse to follow me wherever I may go? Or dost thou think that thou art dreaming, mistaking a shadow for reality, expecting suddenly to wake, and find nothing in thy arms, and thy vision of happiness a phantom, vanishing like the picture in the desert, leaving nothing but the sand? Thou resemblest a very foolish little deer, that for idle fear of falling victim to delusion, should absolutely refuse to drink, even at a pool. O deer, what can ever convince thee of the reality of water, if thou wilt not believe, even when thou art actually standing, as at present, knee-deep in the lake? Must the very future become present, before thou wilt trust thyself to credit what it holds? But thou askest impossibility, and like every other maiden, thou canst not experience the future till it comes. Hast thou, then, no faith in me at all? Out, out, upon the love that cannot trust! O Aranyani, surely thy love is very small, and a mere imitation and counterfeit of love: for as a rule, true love is tested by its power of putting faith in what it loves. See, then, thou unbeliever, I will try to bring the future before thy very eyes, and as I did before, when I told of the life that lay before thee by thyself, so now will I paint for thee another picture, to show thee an image of that life that thou wilt forfeit, by sending me away alone. And he paused for a moment, as if reflecting on his coming words. But he murmured to himself: I feel that she is hesitating, and trembling in the balance; resembling a fruit that fears to fall, yet knows that its very nature dooms it to be eaten, and is half inclined on that account to drop of its own accord. And now, with a little shaking, she will drop into my hand: since like a very woman, she cannot say either yes or no, wishing to be forced along the path which all the while she longs, yet is terribly afraid, to tread. And now then will I bait the hook with flattery, and we shall see whether this golden fish will not swallow it as greedily as all her silver sisters, resembling as they do delicate and fragile foolish ware that sells itself in a market created by its own vanity, where false coin passes easily without detection, and is even more potent and valuable than true. And yet in her case, flattery is very easy, for the grossest is only the simple truth.