Come back to the cave and take shelter!" He turned.

She followed him, breathless, liking the storm--so that no bolt struck him.

In every nerve, in every vein, she felt life rouse itself.

It was like day to old night, summer to one born in winter, a passion of revival where she had not known that there was anything to revive.

The past was as it were not, the future was as it were not; all things poured into a tremendous present.