The Trespasser

Siegmund did not reply.

She wondered if he had really spoken in sincerity, or if he, too, were

mocking fate. They walked slowly through the broiling sun towards

their lodging.

'There will be an end to this,' said Helena, communing with herself.

'And when we come out of the mist-curtain, what will it be? No

matter--let come what will. All along Fate has been resolving, from the

very beginning, resolving obvious discords, gradually, by unfamiliar

progression; and out of original combinations weaving wondrous harmonies

with our lives. Really, the working out has been wondrous, is wondrous

now. The Master-Fate is too great an artist to suffer an anti-climax. I

am sure the Master-Musician is too great an artist to allow a bathetic

anti-climax.'