"Your—mother!" she murmured. "It seems so strange for a man not to be able to speak of his—mother!"
It was Maurice's turn to flush. He said only—"It is strange."
Another pause; and another far off thunder-growl. A sharp line of light traversed the sky.
"We've had a wonderful time here, Dick. I seem to have known you for years—oh, for fifty years."
"And I you—all my life. We must have been in touch long before we met at Bex."
"You don't mean—nonsense about previous existences."
"I don't mean nonsense of any sort. I don't think I know what I do mean. I only know what you are to me—my own. Life without you wouldn't be life."
"I've often thought of that day when we first met,—and I knew you to be an Englishman by your hand. Don't, please."
"My darling, how can I help it?"
"And then, the Glückhorn day! We shall never forget that. If only we could have gone up again! It is desperately disappointing not to have done one single peak."