He was not mistaken; the figure
moved, descended. Motionless, he saw it turn towards him. Then he
knew the step, the form; he sprang forward.
"Irene!"
"You have come to say good-night? See how our thoughts chime; I
guessed you would."
Her voice had a soft, caressing tremor; her hand sought his.
"Irene! You have given me a new life, a new soul!"
Her lips were near as she answered him.
"Rest from your sorrows, my dearest. I love you! I love you!"
He was alone again in the darkness, on the hillside. He heard the
voice of the far-off river, and to his rapturous mood it sounded as
a moaning, brought a sudden sadness. All at once, he thought amid
his triumph of those unhappy ones whom the glory of love would never
bless; those, men and women, born to a vain longing such as he had
known, doomed to the dread solitude from which he by miracle had
been saved. His heart swelled, and his eyes were hot with tears.
But as he went down to the dale, the calm of the silent hour crept
over him. He whispered the beloved name, and it gave him peace; such
peace as follows upon the hallowing of a profound passion, justified
of reason, and proof under the hand of time.
End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Crown of Life, by George Gissing
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