For this world that she was welcoming, that her soul was crying out to, was his world, for ever and ever.

It held his dreams, his hopes, all the desires that he had in life.

And when at last Marette turned toward him slowly, his arms were reaching out to her, and in his face she saw that same glory which filled her own.
"I'm glad--glad," she cried softly.

"Oh, Jeems--I'm glad!" She came into his arms without hesitation; her hands stroked his face; and then she stood with her head against his shoulder, looking ahead, breathing deeply now of the sweet, clear air filled with the elixir of the hovering forests.

She did not speak, or move, and Kent remained quiet.