"Don't put that into words," he interpolated sternly. "I will not forgive you even an imaginary aspersion of your motives."
They had turned away from the padlocked gate, but they were together and there was no shadow of misunderstanding between them. As they took their way up the embankment of the levee in the direction of her aunt's house, revolving their plans for the future, Lucia glanced over her shoulder, then turned and with her wonted airy grace she kissed her hand to the dingy little cottage, so sombre and meagre beneath the gorgeous sunset sky.
"Au revoir, little home," she cried, her voice ringing out joyously in the silence. "I shall set up my staff here for a time at least. It is the trysting-place of Happiness, and all its dreams come true."
For she had romantically stipulated that their honeymoon should be passed here, where she had seen herself in visions so simply happy.
Lloyd looked at her, his eyes shining with a new glow. Then he, too, fervently kissed his hand toward the cottage and echoed her words.
"Au revoir," he said, "a low lintel, but that door will be the portal of Paradise."
THE END