“Your face is bright,” he said, “like a transfiguration.”
She looked at him, questioning. He laughed pleadingly to her, laying his hands on hers. Then he kissed her fingers, then her face.
The world was all steeped in sunshine, and quite still, yet not asleep, but quivering with a kind of expectancy.
“I have never seen anything more beautiful than this,” he said. He held her hand fast all the time.
“And the water singing to itself as it runs—do you love it?” She looked at him full of love. His eyes were very dark, very bright.
“Don’t you think it’s a great day?” he asked.
She murmured her assent. She was happy, and he saw it.
“And our day—just between us,” he said.
They lingered a little while. Then they stood up upon the sweet thyme, and he looked down at her simply.
“Will you co
