“The road out,” she whispered.
“But Santa——”
She nodded. “It's not so difficult as it looks. It was used by smugglers. We use it——”
She broke off. Oars were being shipped. The prow grounded. There was a muttering of men's voices. Some sort of discussion. A pause. Then oars were put out again. The rowing recommenced, growing fainter and fainter.
X
Gone!”
She pressed against him in her gladness.
Seeing the relief in her eyes, he questioned, “What does this mean to you, Anna?”
“Safety.”
“Anything else?”