“I don’t think so, Richard.”
“Oh, my love! You said your heart flew out to me.”
“You mustn’t be too exacting,” she whispered.
“Why don’t you open your eyes, Ira? I am mad to read them.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
I held her closer still.
“Ira, I shall never kiss you now, until you give me leave with your own lips.”
She did not answer. Suddenly I saw a smile flicker on her mouth, and her long lids opened—just a crevice.
“Richard!” she panted, “they never gave you leave.”
“Yes, they did, they did. O! the world has gone by us, Ira, and we are left alone together in the old first heaven of things.”