The two lovers placed their chairs close to the railing and leaning over it looked down into the deserted street or off toward the distant hills swimming like islands on a sea of light, or up to the infinite sky in the immensity of which their individual being seemed to be swallowed up, or down into each other's eyes, in the depths of which they discovered realities which they had never before perceived, and lost sight of those in which they had always believed. For a long time they sat in silence. Afterwards, there came a few whispered interchanges of feeling, as the stillness of a grove is broken by gentle agitations among the leaves, and finally David said, "Pepeeta, you have long promised to tell me all you knew of your early life; will you do it now?" "Of what possible interest can it be to you?" she asked. "It seems to me," he replied, "that I could linger forever over the slightest detail. It is not enough to know what you are. I wish to know how you came to be what you are." "You must reconcile yourself to ignorance; the origin of my existence is lost in night." "Did not the doctor discover anything at all from the people in whose possession he found you?" "Nothing. They kept silence like the grave. He heard from a gypsy in another camp that my parents belonged to a noble family in Spain, and has often said that when he becomes very rich he will go with me to my native land and find them. But I believe, myself, that the veil will never be lifted from the past. I must be content!" "But you can tell me something of that part of your childhood that you do remember?" "It is too sad! I do not want to think of anything that happened before I met you. My life began from that moment. Before, I had only dreamed." He was intoxicated with her beauty and her love; but he carried himself carefully, for he was playing a desperate game and must keep himself under control. "And do you think," he said, "that having awakened from this dream you can ever fall asleep again?" "Can the bird ever go back into the shell or the butterfly into the chrysalis? No, no, it is impossible." "But would you, if you could?" "Perhaps I ought to want to; but I cannot." "And do you think that we can drift on forever as we are going?" "I do not know. I do not dare to think. I only live from day to day." "And you still refuse to take your future into your own hands?" "It is not mine. I must accept what has been appointed." "And you still believe that some door will be opened through which we may escape?" "With all my heart." "I wish I could share your faith." They ceased to speak, and sat silently gazing into each other's faces, the heart of the woman rent with a conflict between desire and duty, that of the man by a tempest of evil passions. At that moment, a slow and heavy step was heard in the hallway. They looked toward the door, and in the shadows saw a man who contemplated them silently for a moment and then advanced. David rose to meet him.