"You must leave me," she said then, and her voice was as lifeless
as his had been. "I am beginning to see now. It all happened so
suddenly that I could not think. But if you love me you must not
go on. It is impossible. I would rather suffer my own fate than
have you do that. When we reach the other shore you must leave
me."

She was struggling to keep back her emotion, fighting to hold it
within her own breast.

"You must go back," she repeated, staring into his set face. "If
you don't, you will be hurt terribly, terribly!"

And then, suddenly, she slipped lower among the cushions he had
placed for her, and buried her face in one of them with a moaning
grief that cut to his soul. She was sobbing now, like a child. In
this moment Philip forgot all restraint. He leaned forward and put
a hand on her shining head, and bent his face close down to hers.
His free hand touched one of her hands, and he held it tightly.

"Listen, my Josephine," he whispered. "I am not going to turn
back, I am going on with you. That is our pact. At the end I know
what to expect. You have told me; and I, too, believe. But
whatever happens, in spite of all that may happen, I will still
have received more than all else in the world could give me. For I
will have known you, and you will be my salvation. I am going on."

For an instant he felt the fluttering pressure of her fingers on
his. It was an answer a thousand times more precious to him than