‘No, but I feel like a beggar — I feel poor.’

She was silent, looking at the stars now. Then she kissed him.

‘Don’t be a beggar,’ she pleaded, wistfully. ‘It isn’t ignominious that you love me.’

‘It is ignominious to feel poor, isn’t it?’ he replied.

‘Why? Why should it be?’ she asked. He only stood still, in the terribly cold air that moved invisibly over the mountain tops, folding her round with his arms.

‘I couldn’t bear this cold, eternal place without you,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t bear it, it would kill the quick of my life.’

She kissed him again, suddenly.