He covered her hands with kisses, he could not contain his joy; and then he drew back and looked at her with worship and reverence in his blue eyes.
The most mysterious, quivering emotions were coursing through him, mixed with triumph, as he took in the picture she made. This delicate, beautiful creature! And to see her—so!
Amaryllis lowered her head in a sweet confusion; her feelings were no less aroused. She was thrilling with passionate welcome and delicious shyness. Nature was indeed ruling them both, and with a glad "Darling Angel!" Denzil sat down beside her and clasped her in his arms. Then for a few seconds delirious pleasure was all that they knew.
"Let me look at you again, Sweetheart," he ordered presently, with a tone of command and possession in his very deep voice, which caused Amaryllis delight. It made her feel that she really belonged to him.
"To me you have never been so beautiful—and every scrap of you is mine."
"Absolutely yours."
"I had to come—I cannot help whether it is right or wrong. I must go back to the Front as soon as I am fit, and I could not have borne to go without seeing you, darling one."
They had a hundred things to say to each other about themselves—and about the baby, and the next hour was very sacred and wonderful. Denzil was a superlatively perfect lover and knew the immense value of tender words.
He intoxicated Amaryllis' imagination with the moving things he said.
Alas! how many worthy men miss themselves, and make their loved ones miss the best part of life's joys by their mulish silence and refusal to gratify this desire of all women to be told that they are loved, to have the fact expressed in passionate speech! No deeds make up for this omission.