Chapter 25 No.25

Dost thou know what love is? Thou canst not till thou holdest Love

itself within thy very arms. I thought I loved thee. I smile now at the

remembrance of that feeble flickering flame that was as like unto the

real love as the faint, cold beam of the candle is to the rays of the

glorious sun. Now-- now-- thou art the father of my son. Th