"
A most strange silence fell upon us on the way back to Streatley.
Claire's face had not yet wholly regained its colour, and she seemed
disinclined to talk. So I had to solace myself by drinking in long
draughts of her loveliness, and by whispering to my soul how poorly
Tom's Queen of Tragedy would show beside my sweetheart.
O fool and blind!
Presently my love asked musingly--
"Jasper, do you think that you could cease to love me?"
"Claire, how can you ask it?"
"You are quite sure? You remember what mother said?"
"Claire, love is strong as death. How does the text run?
'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if
a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would
utterly be contemned.' Claire, you must believe that!"
"'Strong as death,'" she murmured. "Yes, I believe it. What a
lovely text that is!"
The boat touched shore at Streatley, and we stepped out.
"Jasper," she said again at parting that night, "you have no
doubt, no grain of doubt, about my question, and the answer?
'Strong as death,' you are sure?"
For answer I strained her to my heart.
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