"However much you might chance to love a man who is not a Christian?"
"However much I might chance to love such a man."
Marcus let fall her hand. "I think I had best go," he said.
"Yes."
Then came a pause while he seemed to be struggling with himself.
"Miriam, I cannot go."
"Marcus, you must go."
"Miriam, do you love me?"
"Marcus, may Christ forgive me, I do."
"Miriam, how much?"
"Marcus, as much as a woman may love a man."
"And yet," he broke out bitterly, "you bid me begone because I am not a Christian."
"Because my faith is more than my love. I must offer my love upon the altar of my faith--or, at the least," she added hurriedly, "I am bound by a rope that cannot be cut or broken. To break it would bring down upon your head and mine the curse of Heaven and of my parents, who are its inhabitants."
"And if I became of your faith?"
Her whole face lit up, then suddenly its light died.
"It is too much to hope. This is not a question of casting incense on an altar; it is a matter of a changed spirit and a new life. Oh! have done. Why do you play with me?"
"A changed spirit and a new life. At the best that would take time."
"Yes, time and thought."
"And would you wait that time? Such beauty and such sweetness as are yours will not lack for suitors."
"I shall wait. I have told you that I love you; no other man will be anything to me. I shall wed no other man."
"You give all and take nothing; it is not just."
"It is as God has willed. If it pleases God to touch your heart and to preserve us both alive, then in days to come our lives may be one life. Otherwise they must run apart till perchance we meet--in the eternal morning."
"Oh, Miriam, I cannot leave you thus! Teach me as you will."
"Nay, go, Marcus, and teach yourself. Am I a bait to win your soul? The path is not so easy, it is very difficult. Fare you well!"
"May I write to you from Rome?" he asked.
"Yes, why not, if by that time you should care to write, who then will have recovered from this folly of the desert and an idle moon?"
"I shall write and I shall return, and we will talk of these matters; so, most sweet, farewell."
"Farewell, Marcus, and the love of God go with you."
"What of your love?"
"My love is with you ever who have won my heart."