"Yes.... I know it.... I know you do...." She sat musing a moment, then: "And I thought that I knew what it was to love, before you wrote that letter." She shook her head, murmuring something to herself. Then the swift smile curved her lips again, she dumped Gladys out of her lap without ceremony, and leaned her shoulder on Neville's, resting her cheek lightly against his: "It doesn't seem possible that the problem of life has really been solved for us, Louis. I can scarcely realise it--scarcely understand what this heavenly relief means--this utterly blissful relaxation and untroubled confidence. There isn't anything in the world that can harm me, now; is there?" "Nothing." "Nor my soul?" "It has always been beyond danger." "There are those who might tell me differently." "Let them talk. I _know_." "Do you?--you darling!" Her soft, fragrant mouth touched his cheek, lingered, then she laughed to herself for the very happiness of living. "Isn't it wonderful how a word sometimes shatters the fixed ideas that a girl has arrived at through prayer and fasting? I am beginning to think that no real intelligence can remain very long welded to any one fixed belief." "What do you mean, Valerie?" She rested her head on his shoulder and sat considering, eyes remote; then her white fingers crept into his: "We won't talk about it now. I was wrong in some ways. You or common sense--or something--opened my eyes.... But we won't talk about it now.... Because there are still perplexities--some few.... We'll go over them together--and arrange matters--somehow." "What matters?" But she placed a soft hand over his lips, imposing silence, and drew his arm around her with a little sigh of content. Presently she said: "Have you noticed my gown? I made it." He smiled and bent forward to look. "I made _everything_ that I am wearing--except the shoes and stockings. But they are perfectly new.... I wanted to come to you--perfectly new. There was a Valerie who didn't really love you. She thought she did, but she didn't.... So I left her behind when I came--left everything about her behind me. I am all new, Louis.... Are you afraid to love me?" He drew her closer; she turned, partly, and put both arms around his neck, and their lips touched and clung. Then, a little pale, she drew away from him, a vague smile tremulous on her lips. The confused sweetness of her eyes held him breathless with their enchantment; the faint fragrance of her dazed him. In silence she bent her head, remained curbed, motionless for a few moments, then slowly lifted her eyes to his. "How much do you want me, Louis?" "You know." "Enough to--give me up?" His lips stiffened and refused at first, then: "Yes," they motioned. And she saw the word they formed.