Presently he crossed to the fire-escape, stepped outside, hesitated an instant, and then went to Mariana's window. The shutters were closed, but the light burned behind them. "Mariana!" he called; and again, "Mariana!" Through the slats of the shutters the figure of Mariana was visible in high relief against the brightness. "What is it?" she asked, coming nearer. He spoke slowly and with constraint. "Mariana, you will not marry Mr. Paul." She laughed. The sound was like wine in his blood, and constraint was shattered. "Is there any obstacle?" she inquired. "There will be," he answered, and his voice rang clear. "What?" She was leaning against the shutters. He felt her breath upon his brow. "You will marry me." "Oh!" gasped Mariana, and was silent. Suddenly he surrendered self-control. "Open the shutters," he said. The shutters were unfastened, they swung back, and Mariana came out. She looked very young, her hair hung about her shoulders, and in the dim light her face showed small and white. For a moment they stood motionless, each dumb before the knowledge of the other's dominance. Anthony looked at her in heated silence. His face was pale, his eyes glowing. "Mariana!" He did not move nearer, but his voice thrilled her like a caress. She shrank from him, and a heavy shadow fell between them. "Mariana, you will marry me?" In the stillness following his words she heard the sharpness of his breathing. "I--I am not good enough," said Mariana. "My saint!" As if impelled, she leaned towards him, and he caught her in his arms. Beneath them the noise of traffic went on, and with it the hunger and the thirst and the weariness, but they stood above it all, and he felt the beating of her pulses as he held her. "Say you love me," he pleaded--"say it." His breath burned her forehead. "Oh, don't you see?" she asked--"don't you see?" She lifted her head and he took her hands and drew her from the darkness into the light and looked into her eyes. They shone like lamps illuminating an altar, and the altar was his own. "Yes," he said; "but say it." Mariana was silent for an instant, and when she spoke her voice was vibrant with passion. "You are my love, and I love you," she answered. "And I?" "The desire of my eyes." She came nearer, laying one hand upon his arm. He did not move, and his arm hung motionless, but his eyes were hot. "I am yours," she said, slowly, "for ever and ever, to have and to hold, to leave or to take--yours utterly." CHAPTER XI