One hand still clung to her breast.

She was breathing even more quickly, and the flush had deepened in her cheek until it was like the tender stain of the crushed bakneesh.

Philip rose and stood beside her.

His shoulders were back.

He looked where she looked, and as he gazed upon the red and gold billows of forest that melted away against the distant sky he felt a new and glorious fire throbbing in his veins.