Again, leaning near, I whispered to her; and again, just at first, she did not answer. Then, very softly:
“But it was not until you found the new world that you were to claim your reward.”
My heart bounded. She had remembered, then.
“Yes—I wish only to name it, now.”
The sun that had grown to a narrow distorted segment became once more a wavering line.
“Wait,” she said—“not now—to-morrow, perhaps—in the morning——”
“Morning? It is months till then. It is the long night I am thinking of——”
“Yes, I know. I didn’t mean—I meant——” and then somehow my arm had found its way about her, and she was close, close, and did not draw away.
The sun went out. The black wall—the black sea—the great black Antarctic Night and cold closed in, but within and about us lay the ineffable glory that has lighted the world and warmed it since man first looked on woman and found her fair.