The big engine was now running at top speed, rocking down the somewhat roughly laid line.

Banks of trees and stretches of gleaming water sped past, The rails ahead came flying back to them.

The sun was on the firs, and the wind that lashed George's face was filled with their fragrance.

Once or twice a tress of his companion's hair blew across his cheek, but she did not appear to notice this.

He thought she was conscious of little beyond the thrill of speed.
At length the engine stopped where the line crossed a lake on a high embankment.