The Reaper is not sated yet. You know nothing of life, nothing of its dangers, nothing of its possibilities. "Put it under my pillow," he said. "The devil you have!" thundered a voice from behind, that filled the apprentice with dismay. I was certain of it. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman. Do you know, I envy you. I’ve made no one happy.
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