"But how—why?"
"To show me the joy there is in the sunlight wherever it strikes; to take me with you into this picture."
Their eyes met.
"Have I done that?" she asked.
"Yes."
She shook her head.
"I 'm afraid not," she disclaimed, "because the joy has n't been in my own heart."
"Nor was it in mine—then."
Her eyes turned back to his. The silver in them came to the top like the moon reflection on dark waters through fading clouds. He was leaning a little towards her.
"It seems to be something that we can't get alone," he explained.