During the next few days he met Hope at least twice a day, but they hardly spoke, and then only in the presence of others. But Paul felt his heart going like a drum each time he climbed the hill, at thought of seeing her, and to his eyes she was changed. She was no longer an impossible Hope, but had suddenly become possible, and his thoughts and his pulses raced to meet her. On the fourth night after he had told her Ostrog's news, he found it necessary to go to his house for a book he had promised to one of his few convalescents. There was a light in the window. It might be only the police having a rake round in his absence, though that was not very likely, since discipline was much relaxed and he himself almost exempt from supervision. It might be Hope come down on some errand similar to his own. He quickened his step to the quickening of his heart, turned the handle, and stood face to face with her. For a moment they stood and looked at one another in a silence that was full of voices, heart calling to heart till there was no sound in all the world for them but the sound of it. The fires long pent up within him blazed out at last. He could no longer have checked them if he would. He would not if he could. His starved heart had burst the bonds so rigorously imposed upon it through all these weary months. The wall of partition was down and nothing stood between them. The fire in his eyes evoked a responsive glow in hers. He threw out his arms towards her and strode over the dead past. "Hope! Hope! My beloved! You must come to me. My heart is breaking for you," and he wound his arms about her, and strained her to him, and covered her face with hot kisses. "At last! At last!" he panted. "My God! it has been hard to wait. And you----?" he flamed, fierce with the tumult that was in him. Had any intervened between them at that moment he would have rent him in pieces. For answer she wound her arms round his neck and strained herself still closer to him, panting little sobs of joy and sorrow and pity, and then lay still in his arms with a restful sigh. "God be thanked!" he said, in a voice so deep with emotion that it thrilled her as she lay against his leaping heart and knew that it was all for her. He slipped back the hood of her cloak and stroked her hair, and kissed it and her eyes, again and again, and yet again and again, as though he would never cease. "My cup is full. I have nothing left to ask for. Kara is heaven." "Paul," she said, drawing his head down towards her. "You are sure, quite sure----" He stopped her with kisses till she held him away. "Sure we are justified?" she jerked out, between her efforts to stay him. "My heart says so, dearest. It has hungered and waited all these months. It would have waited still had there been any need."