.

Outside the hotel an open carriage happened to be standing. I hailed
the driver, and we got in. The night was beautifully fine and mild. In
the narrow lane of sky left by the high roofs of the street the stars
shone and twinkled with what was to me a new meaning. For I was once
more in accord with the universe. I and Life were at peace again.

"Don't let us go straight home," said Rosa, as the driver turned
towards us for instructions. "It seems to me that a drive through
Paris would be very enjoyable to-night."

And so we told the man to proceed along the quays as far as he could,
and then through the Champs Elysees to the Bois de Boulogne. The Seine
slept by its deserted parapets like a silver snake, and only the low
rumble of the steam-car from Versailles disturbed its slumber. The
million lights of the gas-lamps, stretching away now and then into the
endless vistas of the boulevards, spoke to me of the delicious
companionship of humanity, from which I had so nearly been snatched
away. And the glorious girl by my side--what of her companionship? Ah,
that was more than a companionship; it was a perfect intercourse which
we shared. No two human beings ever understood one another more
absolutely, more profoundly, than did Rosa and myself, for we had been
through the valley and through the flood together. And so it happened
that we did not trouble much with conversation. It was our souls, not
our mouths which talked--talked softly and mysteriously in the
gracious stillness and obscurity of that Paris night. I learnt many
things during that drive--the depth of her love, the height of her
courage, the ecstasy of her bliss. And she, too, she must have learnt
many things from me--the warmth of my gratitude to her, a warmth which
was only exceeded by the transcendent fire of my affection.

Presently we had left the borders of the drowsy Seine, which is so
busy by day, so strangely silent by night. We crossed the immense
Place de la Concorde. Once again we were rolling smoothly along the
Champs Elysees. Only a few hours before we had driven through this
very avenue, Rosa and I, but with what different feelings from those
which possessed us now! How serene and quiet it was! Occasionally a
smooth-gliding carriage, or a bicyclist flitting by with a Chinese
lantern at the head of his machine--that was all. As we approached
the summit of the hill where the Arc de Triomphe is, a new phenomenon
awaited us. The moon rose--a lov