am a man without eyes for your beauty, or a heart to know your worth. I seemed to you a fool and a churl. I grieved most bitterly, and I wronged you bitterly. My excuse for all is now known. For though you are more beautiful than she, yet true love is no wanderer; it gives a beauty that it does not find, and forges a chain no charms can break. Madame, farewell."
She looked at him and saw the sad joy in his eyes, an exultation over what had been, that what was could not destroy; and she knew that the vision was still with him though his love was dead. Suddenly he seemed to her a man she also might love and for whom she also, if need be, might gladly die; yet not because she loved him, for she was asking still in wonder: "What is this love?"
"Madame, farewell," said he again, and, kneeling before her, he kissed her hand.
"I carry the body of my love," he went on, "back with me to my home, there to mourn for her; and I shall come no more to Strelsau."
Osra bent her eyes on his face as he knelt, and presently she said to him in a whisper that was low for awe, not shame:
"You heard what she bade me do?"
