ew sense of fear in him. "There can be no sin in telling you
that--after last night. For we understand each other now. It has filled
me with a strange happiness. Do you remember what you said to me in the
canoe? It was this: 'In spite of all that may happen, I will receive
more than all else in the world could give me. For I will have known
you, and you will be my salvation.' Those words have been ringing in my
heart night and day. They are there now. And I understand them; I
understand you. Hasn't some one said that it is better to have loved
and lost than never to have loved at all? Yes, it is a thousand times
better. The love that is lost is often the love that is sweetest and
purest, and leads you nearest Heaven. Such is Jean's love for his lost
wife. Such must be your love for me. And when you are gone my life will
still be filled with the happiness which no grief can destroy. I did
not know these things--until last night. I did not know what it meant
to love as Jean must love. I do now. And it will be my salvation up in
these big forests, just as you have said that it will be yours down in
that other world to which you will go."

He had listened to her like one stricken by a sudden grief. He
understood her, even before she had finished, and his voice came in a
sudden broken cry of protest and of pain.

"Then you mean--that after this--you will still send me away? After
last night? It is impossible! You have told me, and it makes no
difference, except to make me love you more. Become my wife. We can be
married secretly, and no one will ever know. My God, you cannot drive
me away now, Josephine! It is not justice. If you love me--it is a
crime!"

In the fierceness of his appeal he did not notice how his words were
driving the colour from her face. Still she answered him calmly, in her
voice a strange tenderness. Strong in her faith in him, she put her
hands to his shoulders, and looked into his eyes.

"Have you forgotten?" she asked gently. "Have you forgotten all that
you promised, and all that I told you? There has been no change since
then--no change that frees me. There can be no change. I love you,
Philip. Is that not more than you expected? If one can give one's soul
away, I give mine to you. It is yours for all eternity. Is it not
enough? Will you throw that away--because--my body--is not free?"

Her voice broke in a dry sob; but she still looked into his eyes,
waiting for him to answer--for the soul of