Life was too good like this.

The abyss yawned at their feet.

He would turn his back to it and see only the outstretched landscape of hope.
They ate very little, and Joan ignored her glass.

Gilbert frequently filled his own, but he might just as well have been drinking water.

He was already drunk with love.
Finally, after a long silence, Joan pushed her chair back and got up.
Instantly he was in front of her, with his back to the door.