Her beauty, touched by the light
of absolute happiness, thrilled him now as never before. From mere
wantonness, he had crushed out the heart of this faultlessly lovely
and innocent creature, and his head fell upon his breast in shame and
self-contempt. God might forgive him, but how could he ever forgive
himself?
The door blew open, and, silently as a vision, Helene came in and
stood beside him. It was a strange place for a lover's tryst--that
bare room with its lifeless occupant, flooded with white unearthly
moonlight "Let me stay with you, Edward," she pleaded, with quivering
lips. "No," she added, in answer to the unspoken fear in his eyes, "I
shall not try to comfort you." She knew intuitively that no consolation
could avail in this hour of silent self-torture. "Only," she whispered,
"you must let me share your grief, for I also have wronged her."
And so, with clasped hands, they bent together and kissed the
beautiful still lips that could never utter an accusing word against
them. Their love founded upon death had suddenly become as mysterious
and sacred as the life of a child whose mother perished when she gave
it birth.
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