robbing her from her lawful husband. So Death stepped in and gave
her to me--forever!" and he raised his eyes to the solemn starlit
sky. "Yes, nothing can ever come between us now; no demon tears
her white soul from me; she died innocent of evil, and she is
mine--mine in every pulse of her being, as we shall both know
hereafter!"

His face, which was not remarkable for any beauty of feature, grew
rapt and almost noble in its expression, and Gervase looked at him
with a faint touch of ironical wonder.

"Upon my word, your morality almost outreaches your mysticism!" he
said. "I see you are one of those old-fashioned men who think
marriage a sacred sort of thing and the only self-respecting form
of love."

"Old-fashioned I may be," replied Dr. Dean; "but I certainly
believe in marriage for the woman's sake. If the license of men
were not restrained by some sort of barrier it would break all
bounds. Now I, had I chosen, could have taken the woman I loved to
myself; it needed but a little skilful persuasion on my part, for
her husband was a drink-sodden ruffian..."

"And why, in the name of Heaven, did you not do so?" demanded
Gervase impatiently.

"Because I know the end of all such liaisons," said the Doctor
sadly. "A month or two of delirious happiness, then years of
remorse to follow. The man is lowered in his own secret estimation
of himself, and the woman is hopelessly ruined, socially and