“Oh, Allan, let's go now! This crypt--I can't--”
“We will go very soon. But there's no danger now, darling. We're not children, you know. We've still got work to do. We'll go soon; but first, those records!”
“Oh, how can you, after--after what might have been?”
He found the strength to smile.
“I know,” he answered, “but it didn't happen, after all. A miss is worth a million miles, dear. That's what life seems to mean to us, and has meant ever since we woke in the tower, peril and risk, labor and toil--and victory! Come, come, let's get to work again, for there's so endlessly much to do.”
Calmer grown, the girl found new courage in his eyes and in his strong embrace.
“You're right, Allan. I was a little fool to--”
He stopped her self-reproach with kisses, then picked up the torch from the floor where it had fallen from her nerveless hand.
“If you prefer,” he offered. “I'll take you back into the sunlight, and you can sit under the trees and watch the river, while I--”
“Where you are, there am I! Come on, Allan; let's get it over with. Oh, what a coward you must think me!”