end.

He lived, he struggled with the inarticulate delirium of his thoughts
under the eyes of the silent Aissa. She shared his torment in the
poignant wonder, in the acute longing, in the despairing inability to
understand the cause of his anger and of his repulsion; the hate of
his looks; the mystery of his silence; the menace of his rare words--of
those words in the speech of white people that were thrown at her with
rage, with contempt, with the evident desire to hurt her; to hurt her
who had given herself, her life--all she had to give--to that white man;
to hurt her who had wanted to show him the way to true greatness, who
had tried to help him, in her woman's dream of everlasting, enduring,
unchangeable affection. From the short contact with the whites in the
crashing collapse of her old life, there remained with her the imposing
idea of irresistible power and of ruthless strength. She had found a man
of their race--and with all their qualities. All whites are alike. But
this man's heart was full of anger against his own people, full of anger
existing there by the side of his desire of her. And to her it had been
an intoxication of hope for great things born in the proud and tender
consciousness of her influence. She had heard the passing whisper of
wonder and fear in the presence of his hesitation, of his resistance,
of his compromises; and yet with a woman's belief in the durable
steadfastness of hearts, in the irresistible charm of her own
personality, she had pushed him forward, trusting the future, blindly,
hopefully; sure to attain by his side the ardent desire of her life, if
she could only push him far beyond the possibility of retreat. She did
not know, and could not conceive, anything of his--so exalted--ideals.
She thought the man a warrior and a chief, ready for battle, violence,
and treachery to his own people--for her. What more natural? Was he not
a great, strong man? Those two, surrounded each by the impenetrable
wall of their aspirations, were hopelessly alone, out of sight, out
of earshot of each other; each the centre of dissimilar and distant
horizons; standing each on a different earth, under a different sky.
She remembered his words, his eyes, his trembling lips, his outstretched
hands; she remembered the great, the immeasurable sweetness of her
surrender, that beginning of her power which was to last until death. He
remembered the quaysides and the warehouses; the excitement of a life in
a w