All the capacity is there, Paul,
in you, beautiful one--only I must bring it out with my bow of love! And
what a progress you have made already--a great, great progress. Think,
only a few days ago you had never noticed the colours of this lake, or
even these great mountains, they said nothing to you at all except as
places to take your exercise upon. Life, for you, was just eating and
sleeping and strengthening your muscles." And she laughed softly.
"I know I was a Goth," said Paul. "I can hardly realise it myself, the
change that has happened to me. Everything now seems full of joy."
"Your very phrases are altered, Paul, and will alter more yet, while our
moon waxes and our love grows."
"Can it grow? Can I possibly love you more intensely than I do now--surely
no!" he exclaimed passionately. "And yet--"
"And yet?"
"Ah! yes, I know it. Yes, it can grow until it is my life--my very life."
"Yes, Paul," she said, "your life"--and her strange eyes narrowed again,
the Sphinx's inscrutable look of mystery in their chameleon depths.
Then her mood altered, she became gay and laughing, and her wit sparkled
like dry champagne, while the white launch glided through the blue waters
with never a swirl of foam.
"Paul," she said presently, "to-morrow we will go up the Rigi to the
Kaltbad, and look from the little kiosk over the world, and over the
Bernese Oberland.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108