sinful; sinful in the eyes of my God, and I must say it, Madhav, of my God on earth, of yourself. But you cannot hate me more than I hate myself. Heaven alone knows what I have felt—felt for the long long years that have past, could I rip open this heart you could then and then only know how it beats."
Madhav wept again. "Matangini dear, beloved Matangini,"—he began, but his voice thickened, and he could not proceed.
"Oh say again, again say those words, words that my heart has yearned to hear—say Madhav, do you then love me still? Oh! say but once again and to-night I shall meet death with happiness."
"Listen to me, Matangini," replied Madhav, scarcely cool himself, "listen and spare both of us this sore affliction. At your father's house the flame was kindled which seems fated to consume us both and which then we were too young to quench by desperate efforts, but if even then we never flinched from the path of duty, shall we not, now that years of affliction have schooled our hearts, eradicate from them the evil which corrodes and blisters them? Oh! Matangini, let us forget each other. Let us separate." And Madhav heaved a sigh.
Matangini rose and stood erect in the splendour of new flushed beauty. "Yes," said she with desperate effort, "if the human mind can be taught to forget, I will forget you. We part now and for ever," and there was desperate calmness in her voice.
