She touched it, looked at it and at him.
"It fell from your throat, or waist, when you moved to come with me. I
caught it as it fluttered to the ground and hid it. I have worn it ever
since. I have kissed it night and morning, and it has brought the vision
of you to my waking eyes and into my dreams. I have seen you going from
room to room in my old home at Lenfield, I have seen you descending the
stairs, so vividly that I have found myself holding out my arms to you.
Sometimes when the days were dark, and I was troubled, an awful sadness
has crept into my soul. Doubts have come. Should I ever see you in those
rooms, on those stairs? And then, dearest, I have touched this ribbon
and hope has come again like sunshine after storm. Aye, you shall
question me as you will, but be very sure I shall not easily let you
go."
Barbara stood up suddenly. Her hands were in his, and she made him rise
from his knees. She stood before him, her eyes looking into his.
"And, Gilbert, when you have ridden in the night, alone, have you
thought of me then?"
"Since love came I have never ridden alone," he answered. "No matter if
the stars were clear, or the night had wind and rain in it, you have
been beside me.
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