"And I could not explain for Anthony and Barbara's sakes. And when I could have explained I would not, because I wished you to--yes, dear--to suffer--just a little--and because I wished to see if you were brave enough to forgive your Diana--lift her from shame and dishonour to--to the secure haven of--your love. And you were brave enough and--now, oh, now I'm crying--and I hate to cry, Perry--but it's only because I do love you so much more than I can ever say--so don't--don't kneel to me, beloved--come to my heart!" So she stooped and raised me to the comfort of her gentle arms, to the haven of her fragrant mouth. And thus the dead was buried at last, mountains deep, and my hateful demons vanished utterly away for ever and for ever. "You would always have been mine, Diana!" "And so it is I love you, Peregrine! And so it is I am yearning to be your wife--and yet here we stay and our guests all gone--" "Gone?" I exclaimed. "I told them we would follow--in Jerry's cart. Shall you mind riding to your wedding in a tinker's cart, dear?" "My wise Diana, I love its every spoke and timber for your sake, so could there never be any other chariot of any age, on four wheels or two, so proper to bear us to our happiness, my clever Gipsy-Lady. Come, dear, hurry--for I am longing, aching to hear you call me 'husband.'" "And are my eyes--very red, Perry?" "Yes--no--what matter? They are lovelier than ever they were--my jewels--let me kiss them!" "And now--this, dear heart!" said she a little tremulously, and laid the gold locket in my hand: and kneeling beside this chuckling stream as we had done once before, I clasped it about her white throat and kissed her until she bade me (a little breathlessly) to remember our waiting guests. And thus at last, sitting with Diana's hand in mine, behind Diogenes, that four-footed philosopher, we rattled, creaked, and jolted away to our new life and all that the future held for us.