"Yes, even now," she whispered. "Now—and I am so happy!" she broke off to herself, but he heard her. "So happy! Is it all a dream? Tell me."
He bent and kissed her.
"Is it a dream, do you think?" he answered.
The crimson dyed her face and neck, and her eyes drooped.
"And you are happy?" he said. "Think what I must be. For a man's love is deeper, more passionate than a woman's, Stella. Think what I must be!"
She sighed and looked up at him.
"But still it is wrong! I fear that. All the world will say that."
"All the world!" he echoed, with smiling scorn. "What have we to do with the world? We two stand outside, beyond it. Our world is love—is our two selves, my darling."
"All the world," she said. "Ah! what will they say?" and instinctively she glanced over her shoulder at the great house with the glow of light streaming from its many windows. "Even now—now they are wondering where you are, expecting, waiting for you. What would they say if they knew you were here with me—and—and all that has happened?"
His eyes darkened. He knew better than she, with all her fears, what they would say, and already he was braving himself to meet the storm, but he smiled to re-assure her.