And there, beneath the shadow of the Rock, our lips drew closer, met, and were locked in their first kiss.
When I looked up again the shadow had vanished, and the west was grey and clear.
So in the tranquil evening we rowed homewards, our hearts too full for speech. The wan moon rose and trod the waters, but we had no thoughts, no eyes for her. Our eyes were looking into each other's depths, our thoughts no thoughts at all, but rather a dazzled and wondering awe.
Only as a light or two gleamed out, and Streatley twinkled in the distance, Claire said—
"Can it be true? You know nothing of me."
"I know you love me. What more should I know, or wish to know?"
The red lips were pursed in a manner that spoke whole tomes of wisdom.
"You do not know that I work for my living all the week?"
"When you are mine you shall work no more."
"'But sit on a cushion and sew a gold seam'? Ah, no; I have to work. It is strange," she said, musingly, "so strange."