Will you call me up then? A word
from you will put me at ease for the night, even if it comes over the
telephone."
"I will call you up. We moderns have an advantage over the ancients in
this respect: the twentieth-century Pyramus can speak to Thisbe even if
innumerable walls sever his body from hers."
"A quaint conceit! But let us hope that our love-story will end less
tragically," she said, tenderly caressing his hair. "Oh, we shall be
happy, you and I," she added, after a while. "The iron finger of fate
that lay so heavily on our lives is now withdrawn. Almost withdrawn.
Yes, almost. Only almost."
And then a sudden fear overcame her.
"No," she cried, "do not go, do not go! Stay with me; stay here. I feel
so frightened. I don't know what comes over me. I am afraid--afraid for
you."
"No, dear," he rejoined, "you need not be afraid. In your heart you
don't want me to desert a friend, and, besides, leave the best part of
my artistic life in Reginald's clutch."
"Why should you expose yourself to God knows what danger for a friend
who is ready to betray you?"
"You forget friendship is a gift.
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