She looked up at him with the starlight on her face. It seemed to him that he saw her for the first time. He had never really known her before. He was dizzily conscious of flashing lights and something in his throat that hurt him.
"Anthy," he said huskily, "you are the most beautiful woman in the world."
She still stood, close to him, looking up into his face. She tried to move, but could not.
"Anthy," he said again, with shaking voice, and stooping over kissed her upon her lips.
She uttered a little low cry and, turning quickly, with her hand lifted to her face, ran up the walk to the house.
"Anthy," he called after her—such a call as she will not forget to her dying day.
Nort stood by the gate, clasping the wood until his fingers hurt him, in a wild tumult of emotion. And behind him in the shadows, not a hundred paces away, Fergus, with clenched hands.