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 “You are exceedingly wise, Perseus, for you realise the limitations of your sex. Yet somehow the romance of the thing seems dead.”

“The centuries will restore it. The vulgar incidents of to-day become the romances of tomorrow. Time mellows gloriously, as you sug- gested. And, after all, they are dead lovers, Andromeda, while we are alive.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “it is something to be alive. Yet, if there is any truth in things unknown, how much more perfect must be the reunion after death, when all love shall become perfect, unchangeable. I should like to believe it all; I wish I could. One should be strong in faith; but what if one is by nature doubting, sceptical?” Her voice took a low, musical sound; her eyes were dreamily staring into the blue infinitude. “Have you ever wondered where heaven is?”

“My dear Andromeda!” he answered with a start.

“T often think of it, but I can’t fix it. Of course, once we thought it was somewhere in the clouds; but what we call the sky science tells us is an infinity of worlds. If such is the