"
"I see him. He is tall, pale, noble, suffering. You love him."
"Is it he who shall be my life and my death? Is it he who shall love me
as other women are not loved?"
The weak voice was still for a moment, and the face seemed covered with
a veil of perplexity.
"I see with your eyes," said the old man at last.
"And I command you to see into the future with your own!" cried Unorna,
concentrating her terrible will as she grew more impatient.
There was an evident struggle in the giant's mind, an effort to obey
which failed to break down an obstacle. She bent over him eagerly and
her whole consciousness was centered in the words she desired him to
speak.
Suddenly the features relaxed into an expression of rest and
satisfaction. There was something unearthly in the sudden smile that
flickered over the old waxen face--it was as strange and unnatural as
though the cold marble effigy upon a sepulchre had laughed aloud in the
gloom of an empty church.
"I see. He will love you," said the tremulous tones.
"Then it is he?"
"It is he."
With a suppressed cry of triumph Unorna lifted her head and stood
upright. Then she started violently and grew very pale.
"You have probably killed him and spoiled everything," said a rich bass
voice at her elbow--the very sub-bass of all possible voices.
Keyork Arabian was beside her. In her intense excitement she had not
heard him enter the room, and he had surprised her at once in the
breaking of their joint convention and in the revelation of her secret.
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