And then he bent his head and kissed her.
“Like that!” he said, hoarsely. “Only a thousand times more than that—a million times more than that!”
She pulled herself up until her cheek was pressed to his; and her eyes were like twin stars.
“And I!” she whispered. “A million times more than that. Oh, my prince, my lover!”
Stewart’s veins ran fire, His fatigue dropped from him. He trod on air. He threw back his head proudly, for he felt himself invincible. He was contemptuous of fate—it could not harm him now!
“And yet you wanted me to put you down!” he mocked.
She snuggled against him, warm and womanly; she gave herself to him.
“Oh, hold me close!” she seemed to say. “Hold me close, close! I am yours now!”
“Wave the handkerchief!” he added. “We’re getting near the barricade. Life is too sweet to end just yet!”
She smiled up into his eyes, and waved the handkerchief at arm’s length above their heads. Stewart, glancing up, saw a row of faces crowned by queer black shakos peering curiously down from the top of the barricade.