that Father Forbes came with me. Oh, I can read you through and through,
Mr. Ware."

In a misty way Theron felt things slipping from his grasp. The rising
moisture blurred his eyes as their gaze clung to Celia.

"Then if you do read me," he protested, "you must know how utterly my
heart and brain are filled with you. No other man in all the world can
yield himself so absolutely to the woman he worships as I can. You have
taken possession of me so wholly, I am not in the least master of myself
any more. I don't know what I say or what I do. I am not worthy of you,
I know. No man alive could be that. But no one else will idolize and
reverence you as I do. Believe me when I say that, Celia! And how can
you blame me, in your heart, for following you? 'Whither thou goest,
I will go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people shall be my
people, and thy God my God; where thou diest, will I die, and there will
I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death
part thee and me!'"

Celia shrugged her shoulders, and moved a few steps away from him.
Something like despair seized upon him.

"Surely," he urged with passion, "surely I have a right to remind you of
the kiss!"

She turned. "The kiss," she said meditatively. "Yes, you have a right
to remind me of it. Oh, yes, an undoubted right. You have another right
too--the right to have the kiss explained to you. It was of the good-bye
order. It signified that we weren't to meet again, and that just for one
little moment I permitted myself to be sorry for you. That was all."