You can go on, and it's the going on that matters." "But I can't carry wood." A little smile curled the corners of Desire's lips.

He did not see it because she had turned to the fire again and, with that deliberate unself-consciousness which characterized her, was proceeding to unpin and dry her hair.

Spence had not seen it undone before and was astonished at its length and lustre.

The girl shook it as a young colt shakes its mane, spreading it out to the blaze upon her hands.
"I know what you mean, though," admitted Spence, "there is nothing like the fascination of the unknown.

It very nearly did for me." Desire looked up long enough to allow her slanting brows to ask their eternal question.
"Too much inside, not enough outside," he answered.