The moon poured around her a flood of radiance, which gave her an ethereal aspect.

Her white drapery enhanced and spiritualized her remarkable beauty, making her appear all that lover or poet could ask.

His own words grew kinder and gentler; his heart went out to her as never before; she seemed so fair, delicate, and pure in that witching light that he longed to rescue her at once from her surroundings.

Why should he not?
She had never manifested a more gentle and yielding mood.

He directed her steps from the piazza to a somewhat distant summer-house, and her reluctance was a shy half revolt, which only emphasized the natural meaning of her unspoken consent.
Mrs.Muir was still keeping her eyes open, and from her window saw them pass under the shadow of the trees.
At last they were sitting alone in the summer night.