But the moment he came to her, the moment she felt his arm about her, rapture came and drove out all beside.

She drank again of the wine of the gods, drank deeply, giving herself up to it without reservation, too eager to catch every drop thereof to trouble as to what might follow.
He caught her mood.

Possibly it was but the complement of his own.

Freely he interpreted it, feeling her body throb in swift accord to every motion, aware of the almost passionate surrender of her whole being to the delight of that one magic dance.

She was reckless, and he was determined.