Something in my heart's beat, or in the stiffening of my arm, must
have startled my darling, for as I gazed I felt her stir, and,
looking down, caught her eyes turned wistfully upwards. My lips bent
to hers.
"Mine, Claire! Mine for ever!"
And there, beneath the shadow of the Rock, our lips drew closer, met,
and were locked in their first kiss.
When I looked up again the shadow had vanished, and the west was grey
and clear.
So in the tranquil evening we rowed homewards, our hearts too full
for speech. The wan moon rose and trod the waters, but we had no
thoughts, no eyes for her. Our eyes were looking into each other's
depths, our thoughts no thoughts at all, but rather a dazzled and
wondering awe.
Only as a light or two gleamed out, and Streatley twinkled in the
distance, Claire said--
"Can it be true? You know nothing of me."
"I know you love me. What more should I know, or wish to know?"
The red lips were pursed in a manner that spoke whole tomes of
wisdom.
"You do not know that I work for my living all the week?"
"When you are mine you shall work no more.
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