Already they had established a communion that was independent of speech.

He had never told her that he loved her; yet she saw it in every glance of his eyes and heard it in every tone of his voice.
While they walked slowly up the hill she wondered trustingly why, when he had told her so plainly in every other way that he loved her, he should never have put it into words.

There could not be any doubt of it; perhaps this was the reason he hesitated.

The present was so perfect that it was like the most exquisite hour of a spring afternoon.

One longed to hold it back even though one knew that it led to something more lovely still.
"Are you happy ?" she asked, and wondered if he would kiss her again when they parted as he had kissed her yesterday in the dusk of the hall?
"Yes, and no." He drew nearer to her.