“Love?” she echoed, in low tones of surprise; and another long silence followed, while I waited eagerly for the words that did not come, and she averted her head so that not even the dimly glowing eyes were visible. Then, when the suspense was becoming embarrassing, I found hesitating speech, which gradually grew more fluent and assured; and all the pent-up emotions of months welled forth and forced a passionate torrent from my tongue, so vehement as to surprise even myself. I told her how immeasurably dear she had become; how she had been for me the central light of all this strange world; how she had soothed my loneliness, dispersed my despair, and given me hope and a reason for living; how my life could have meaning and beauty only if she had a share in it, while without her all things would be desolate and blank. All this and much more I poured forth in an eager rhapsody, not pausing to reflect that I was but repeating the sentiments of a million lovers; and the strength of my feelings perhaps lent wings to my commonplace words, and gave them a power that no analysis could reveal. Or perhaps it was that Atlantean lovers never expressed themselves as do lovers on earth; for even in the darkness I was aware that Aelios was listening, listening intently, listening almost with a breathless interest, as though she had never heard or imagined words such as mine. After I had finished, she seemed still held in some spell of speechlessness. For several tense seconds, slow-dragging portentous seconds that seemed minutes long, I waited for her to brook silence. But when her response came, it was in passionless tones that contrasted oddly with my emotion; and with an accentuation so feeble as to resemble a whisper, she declared, “All this that you say seems strange to me, very, very strange. You speak of love, but I fear I do not understand. Perhaps love in your land is not the same as here, for I am sure that what you speak of is not what we would call love.” “And what would you call love?” I asked. “It is something that hardly needs a name. It is like none of those momentary attachments that men and women sometimes feel. It is something that wraps one’s whole being in a mighty flame, and is born chiefly of a kinship of the mind and heart; and when it comes, it need not be much spoken of, but can never be forgotten or lost.” “That’s just what I feel toward you, Aelios!” I assured her, fervently. “But I do not know if it is what I feel toward you,” she returned, simply. “I do not know--I cannot yet be sure.” “But you think that perhaps--that perhaps sometime--” I gasped, wild hope springing to life within me. “Yes, perhaps sometime--I cannot say,” she murmured, slowly. But in her tones was the assurance of that which her expressed words denied; and, with the exultation of unlooked for success, I at last flung myself free of restraint, and my arms found their way about her slim, resisting form.