His words are nearly too much for her. He says everything that she wanted and yet everything that she worries of. "Nor would I wish anything else, and thank you. For saying so now."

Sybil can only take his hand and kiss him softly, the stick still ominous in one hand. Yet, when she does turn to look at it, the markings have not changed. There is no second line, and that is both a relief and a disappointment. Sybil turns to Henri, a hand still tight in his. "I don't know what I should feel."