But, to him, those dear firm hands holding him close, by that sudden movement, seemed an acceptance of himself and of all he had to offer.

For ten, twenty, thirty exquisite seconds, his soul throbbed in silence and rapture beyond words.

Then he broke from the pressure of those restraining hands; lifted his head, and looked into her face once more.
"My wife!" he said.
* * * * * Into Jane's honest face came a look of startled wonder; then a deep flush, seeming to draw all the blood, which had throbbed so strangely through her heart, into her cheeks, making them burn, and her heart die within her.

She disengaged herself from his hold, rose, and stood looking away to where the still waters of the lake gleamed silver in the moonlight.
Garth Dalmain stood beside her.

He did not touch her, nor did he speak again.