At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. It is Anna again who stands between me and ruin. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. A wedding procession turned the corner. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands. The ring's yours, and you're mine.
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