Someone stood before her.
Someone spoke to her.
Someone touched her arm.
It was a man.
And yes--his eyes were sparkling too.
His hands were trembling also.
And his heart was beating as wildly as was hers.
She could see.
She could tell.
She could feel.
He and she were alone.
Alone at midnight.
And the moon was shining.
How she loved the moon!
And perhaps he loved it too.
Nana Lalla was not afraid.
Instead, she was full of hope.
He must _love_ the moon--even as did she!
So, when he touched her, she did not shrink away.
When he took her in his arms, she yielded herself.
And when he kissed her--she responded....
The Man always remembered Nana Lalla.
He had loved her.
And he thought that she had loved him.
But Nana Lalla soon forgot the Man.
She had not loved him.
She had only loved--the Moon....