He bowed his face to hers, so that he felt the velvety smoothness of her cheek.

She turned her mouth to him, and they kissed.

His embrace was crushing for a moment, fierce with his love for her, desperate with his determination to keep her from harm.
His brain was working swiftly.

There was possibly one chance in ten that the scow--rudderless and without human guidance--would sweep safely between the black walls and jagged teeth of the Chute.

Even if the scow made this passage, they would be in the power of the Police, unless some splendid whimsicality of Fate sent it ashore before the launch came through.
On the other hand, if it was carried far enough through the lower rapids, they might swim.