"
Now at this she sat back to regard me beneath wrinkled brows; once her
scarlet mouth quivered, though whether she would weep or no I knew
not, but before the sweet directness of her eyes I felt strangely
abashed and knew again that old consciousness of futility.
"O Peregrine," she sighed at last, "how very--foolishly blind you are,
how hopelessly masculine, and how nobly generous--my proud gorgio
gentleman!" And stooping, she caught my hand ere I knew and kissed it
passionately.
"O Diana!" I exclaimed, very ill at ease. "Why do--so?"
"Because--oh, my dear--because you would stoop to lift your poor,
stained Diana from the depths and cover her shame with your love!
Because, thinking me vile, you would still honour me with your name.
Oh, my Peregrine, you love me more--much more than I ever dared
hope--better than even you know!" And rising, she gave herself to my
eager arms.
"O Diana," I murmured, "how wonderful you are!"
"Last time we met you called me--wanton!" she whispered.
"I was mad!" cried I remorsefully. "And yet--"
"And yet--you meant it, dear Peregrine! And tonight I am here upon
your heart--oh, wonderful--kiss your wanton again--"
"Ah--hush!" I pleaded. "Don't--don't say it."
"Ah, Peregrine, beloved--don't think it!"
"But Diana," I groaned, "oh, my Diana, I saw you with--"
"Hush!" she whispered suddenly. "There is somebody moving down
below--listen!"
From the pitchy gloom beneath came a heavy tread and a deep,
long-drawn sigh; but even so I knew a happiness beyond all expression
to feel how she nestled closer into my embrace as if seeking
protection there.
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