Everything about him bespoke force and decision--to Lilly's admiration, well-nigh to her dread. Nevertheless, although a golden brown tinge of health from the south still coloured his cheeks, his body was not robust. His throat was delicate, his breath came and went hastily, and sometimes, when a veil fell over his eyes as if he were looking inward, a soft weariness crept over his features which gave him an extremely youthful appearance and evoked motherly feelings. "So _that's_ what you are," she thought and stretched herself in blissful peace. "At last." "Why are you closing your eyes?" he asked solicitously. "Aren't you feeling well?" "Yes, oh, yes," she said caressingly. "But speak to me, tell me about down there where I've always wanted to be and never could be." Lilly went on to tell him of the great yearning which the consumptive teacher had awakened in her, and how it had continued to smoulder under all the ashes life had cast upon it. "I in your place would have made a pilgrimage there barefoot." "Pshaw," she said. "I've had money enough. But I've never been free. Once I got as far as Bozen and had to turn back--as a punishment--because a young man ogled me." "Oh, dreadful," he laughed, "that was hard luck. Much harder than you divine." "Oh, I divine it," she sighed. "I need merely look at you." "Why at me?" "Because you shine like Moses after he witnessed the glory of the Lord." He became serious. "There are glories up here, too. But you're right. I have so much life and light stored up in me from down there, so many sources have been opened up, so many germs have begun to sprout--sometimes I hardly know what to do with all my wealth. I write my fingers bloody, and more keeps coming. I would like ever to give, give, give. But I don't know to whom." "To me," she implored, holding out her hands palm upward. "I am so miserably poor." He looked at her with great, severe, clairvoyant eyes. "You are not poor. They have simply let you starve." "Isn't that the same thing?" He shook his head, continuing to keep his gaze fixed upon her rigidly. "What was your husband?" he asked. "I--am--the divorced wife--of an army officer of high rank," she replied with downcast eyes. This time--thank the Lord!--it was not a lie. Yet, to be accurate, she had lied. For see what she was _now_! He clasped her hand, which lay next to his on the table, and held it an instant. "If it is difficult for you to speak of your life, don't," he said. "Later, perhaps, when we know each other better, you will tell me. I will tell you about myself--and how I--came to do my work." "The work of which you spoke that time?" Lilly asked, strangely stirred by the sudden solemnity of his tone. Drawing a deep breath he stretched out his clenched fists and his eyes stared into space.