“How difficult that is to answer. I suppose if love and faith are strong enough they will always create the vibrations to which the greater vibrations respond, and so make God in their own image at any time or place. But that they call up what is the truest reality I have never doubted. There is no shadow without a substance. The substance is beyond us but under certain conditions the shadow is projected and we see it. “Have I seen or has it been dream?” “I cannot tell. It may have been the impress of my mind on yours, for I see such things always. You say I took your hand?” “Take it now.” She obeyed, and instantly, as I felt the firm cool clasp, I heard the rain of music through the pines--the Flute Player was passing. She dropped it smiling and the sweet sound ceased. “You see! How can I tell what you have seen? You will know better when I am gone. You will stand alone then.” “You will not go--you cannot. I have seen how you have loved all this wonderful time. I believe it has been as dear to you as to me. And every day I have loved you more. I depend upon you for everything that makes life worth living. You could not--you who are so gentle--you could not commit the senseless cruelty of leaving me when you have taught me to love you with every beat of my heart. I have been patient--I have held myself in, but I must speak now. Marry me, and teach me. I know nothing. You know all I need to know. For pity’s sake be my wife.” I had not meant to say it; it broke from me in the firelight moonlight with a power that I could not stay. She looked at me with a disarming gentleness. “Is this fair? Do you remember how at Peshawar I told you I thought it was a dangerous experiment, and that it would make things harder for you. But you took the risk like a brave man because you felt there were things to be gained--knowledge, insight, beauty. Have you not gained them?” “Yes. Absolutely.” “Then, is it all loss if I go?” “Not all. But loss I dare not face.” “I will tell you this. I could not stay if I would. Do you remember the old man on the way to Vernag? He told me that I must very soon take up an entirely new life. I have no choice, though if I had I would still do it.” There was silence and down a long arcade, without any touch of her hand I heard the music, receding with exquisite modulations to a very great distance, and between the pillared stems, I saw a faint light. “Do you wish to go?” “Entirely. But I shall not forget you, Stephen. I will tell you something. For me, since I came to India, the gate that shuts us out at birth has opened. How shall I explain? Do you remember Kipling’s ‘Finest Story in the World’?” “Yes. Fiction!”