"I felt that if I did not look upon your face I should die--that I could
live no longer without seeing you. Such a terrible fever seemed to be
burning my very life away. My heart yearned for the touch of your hand.
So I came. You are not angry that I came?"
"No, not angry; but, my darling, it will be harder for us to part."
"I have been here in Tintagel for two whole days," she continued. "I
have seen you, but this is the first time you have gone where I could
follow. Now speak to me, Norman. Say something to me that will cure my
terrible pain--that will take the weary aching from my heart. Say
something that will make me stronger to bear my desolate life--braver to
live without you. You are wiser, better, stronger, braver than I. Teach
me to bear my fate."
What could he say? Heaven help them both--what could he say? He looked
with dumb, passionate sorrow into her fair loving face.
"You must not think it unwomanly in me to come," she said. "I am you
wife--there is no harm in my coming. If I were not your wife, I would
sooner have drowned myself than return after you had sent me away."
Her face was suffused with a crimson blush.
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