erwhelming weight of shame.

"But our lives"--he stammered--"but--if I go--afterwards--if I make my
confession--afterwards--afterwards?"

"Isn't it enough to think of that one thing? Isn't it better to put
everything else, every other thought, away? It seems so clear to me that
we should go to Beni-Mora. I feel as if I had been told--as a child is
told to do something by its father."

She looked up into the clear sky.

"I am sure I have been told," she added. "I know I have."

There was a long silence between them. Androvsky felt that he did not
dare to break it. Something in Domini's face and voice cast out from him
the instinct of revolt, of protest. He began to feel exhausted, without
power, like a sick man who is being carried by bearers in a litter, and
who looks at the landscape through which he is passing with listless
eyes, and who scarcely has the force to care whither he is being borne.

"Domini," he said at last, and his voice sounded very tired, "if you
say I must go to Beni-Mora I will go. I have done you a great wrong
and--and--"

"Don't think of me any more," she said. "Think--think as I
do--of--of----

"What am I? I have loved you, I shall always love you, but I am as you
are, here for a little while, elsewhere for all eternity. You told
him--that man in the monastery--that we are shadows set in a world of
shadows."

"That was a lie," he interrupted, and the weariness had gone out of his
voice. "When I said that I had never loved, I had never loved you."

"Or was it a half-truth? Aren't we, perhaps, shadow now in
comparison--comparison to what we shall be? Isn't this world, even
this--this desert, this pool with the light on it, this silence of the
night around us--isn't all this a shadow in comparison to the world
where we are going, you and I? Boris, I think if we are brave now we
shall be together in that world. But if we are cowards now, I think, I
am sure, that in that world--the real world--we shall be separated for
ever. You and I, whatever we may be, whatever we may have done, at least
are one thing--we are believers. We don't think this is all. If we did
it would be different. But we can't change the truth that is in our
souls, and as we can't change it we must live by it, we must act by it.
We can't do anything else. I can't--and you? Don't you feel, don't you
know, that you can't?"

"To-night," he said, "I feel that I know nothing--nothing except that I
am suffering."

His voic