They took hands and forced their way against the wind.
"The cabin?"
"It stands, please God!"
After much battling they spied the light shining through the louvers of its closed shutter. The gale streamed down the valley as through a funnel, but once past the angle of the cliff they found themselves almost in a calm. He pushed the door open.
On the hearth—the hearth of his building—a pile of logs burned cheerfully. Over these the kettle hissed; and the firelight fell on their bed, with its linen oversheet turned back and neatly folded.
She entered and he closed the door behind her. She laughed as he pushed its bolt. They were drenched to the skin, the pair.
"This is best," said she with another soft and happy laugh.
"This is best," he repeated after her. "Better even than in fair weather."