"What did you think of me when you got my note, dear one?" she whispered at last. "And I have been in perfect agony ever since, for fear it should be too late. But I could not let you go as I did this morning. I felt such an irresistible craving to see you again, Laurence, my darling, to hear your voice. I felt we could not part as we did--each trying to deceive the other, each knowing, the while, that it was impossible. I wanted more than that for a memory throughout the blank time that is coming." "Yes, we were both too strong, my Lilith. And why should we have been? What scruple ever stood anybody to the good in this hell-fraud of a state called 'Life'? Not one--not one! Yes, we were too strong, and your self-command deceived even me." "My self-command? Ah, Laurence, my darling, how little you knew! All the time I was battling hard with myself, forcing down an irresistible longing to do this--and this--and this!" And drawing down his head, she kissed him, again and again, long, tender kisses, as though her whole soul sought entrance into his. "But I shall tire you, my dearest, if I keep you standing here like this," she went on. "Come inside now, and our last talk--our last for a long time--shall, at any rate, be a cosey one." She drew him within the half open door of an adjoining room. The window curtains were drawn, and a shaded lamp gave forth the same subdued and chastened light as that which burned in the hall. There were flowers in vases and sprays, arranged in every tasteful and delicate manner, and distilling a fragrance subtile and pervading. The sumptuous prettiness of the furniture and ornaments--picture frames encasing mystic and thought-evoking subjects, books disposed here and there, delicate embroidery, the work of her fingers--in short, the hundred and one dainty knick-knacks pleasing to the eye--seemed to reflect the bright, beautiful personality of Lilith; for, indeed, the arrangement and disposal of them was almost entirely her own. She made him sit down upon the softest and most comfortable couch; then, as she seated herself beside him, he drew her head down to rest upon his shoulder and wound his arms about her. "Why did you wait until even the twelfth hour?" he said. "Why did you blind me all this time, my Lilith? Only think what we have lost by it!" "Ah, yes, I have indeed. But tell me, dear one, it is not too late, is it, even though it be the twelfth hour?" "It came very near being too late. I had already started. Yes, it is indeed the twelfth hour. Too late? I don't know," he went on, in a tone of sombre bitterness. "Think of the blissful times that might have been ours had I but known. I would have taught you the real meaning of the word 'love.' I would have drawn your innermost soul from you--would have drawn it into mine--have twined every thought of your being around mine--had I but known. And I could have done this; you know I could, do you not? Think a moment, then answer."