contemplative rest, as if waiting to hear the avowal of something
from his lips. At that instant he appeared to break a resolution
hitherto zealously kept. Leaving his seat amidships he came and
gently edged himself down beside her upon the narrow seat at the
stern.

She breathed more quickly and warmly: he took her right hand in his
own right: it was not withdrawn. He put his left hand behind her
neck till it came round upon her left cheek: it was not thrust
away. Lightly pressing her, he brought her face and mouth towards
his own; when, at this the very brink, some unaccountable thought or
spell within him suddenly made him halt--even now, and as it seemed
as much to himself as to her, he timidly whispered 'May I?'

Her endeavour was to say No, so denuded of its flesh and sinews that
its nature would hardly be recognized, or in other words a No from
so near the affirmative frontier as to be affected with the Yes
accent. It was thus a whispered No, drawn out to nearly a quarter
of a minute's length, the O making itself audible as a sound like
the spring coo of a pigeon on unusually friendly terms with its
mate. Though conscious of her success in producing the kind of word
she had wished to produce, she at the same time trembled in suspense
as to how it would be taken. But the time available for doubt was
so short as to admit of scarcely more than half a pulsation:
pressing closer he kissed her. Then he kissed her again with a
longer kiss.

It was the supremely happy moment of their experience. The 'bloom'
and the 'purple light' were strong on the lineaments of both. Their
hearts could hardly believe the evidence of their lips.