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 the gift I gave, and wept a little, and then softly laughed, not rightly knowing what she wished, nor looking to the future.

Yes, that is likeliest Yes, I would not think all was a lie—then.

Well, I married her. Do you know what life was me then? A paradise—a fool's paradise, doubtless, but one without cloud, or stain, or fear, or regret upon it whilst it lasted.

She loved me!

So she had said, so she had proved. It seemed so marvellous to me! Day and night I thanked Heaven for it, for in Heaven I believed—now. What but a God—pure and perfect as the priests said—could create such a creature as this?

She seemed so wonderful to me, this white and golden thing, with her snowy limbs, and rosy lips, and her smile like the sunlight, which yet were all mine—only mine. When I looked at her in the first faint morning light and watched her soft still slumber, I used to think that this must be a dream—this wondrous ecstasy of mine, this intoxication of possession.

What was I, a man so poor, so ill-favoured, so grotesque, so destitute of any charm or grace which could win love, that I should have been able