My eyes were seared with unrest in this hopelessness of sea and land. I turned them upon Gwen, who stood beside me, to give them comfort. She had a lace shawl about her head and arched over her face, shading it from the steady drizzle of cinders. These lay upon the few unprotected curls that flecked her forehead, giving her a poudré effect that in that deep twilight radiance was simply ravishing. The same scarlet duskiness beat upon her complexion, giving it the tint of a moss-rose. Her eyes shone anxiously, but like stars.
I gnawed restlessly at my mustache. I was but human and desperately in love. The desire to take her in my arms and swear that nothing on earth should hurt her was just on the borders of being irresistible.
“Magnificent sight, isn’t it?” I questioned, looking down at her pleasantly.
“Gorgeous,” she answered briefly, coming a step nearer. It was with a curious catch in her voice she added: “But what if it overflows?”
“Oh, it won’t,” I answered confidently. “Besides, the glacier’s between us and it.”
“Another earthquake might split the glacier.”
“We’ll wait till it does,” said I cheerfully. “We shall be well away before anything of that kind happens.”
She stood silent for a minute or two, tapping her fingers idly on the boulder beside her. Then she looked up at me with a quick smile.
“After all, it would be very soon over, wouldn’t it?”
“Quite soon,” said I, with assurance. “And—and we should be all together.”