A full moon flooded the landscape, under which the lofty banks, and the great mountains beyond, shimmered in fantastic manner; wherein the river, mighty as it was, seemed dwarfed like unto a silver serpent, winding and turning down to the sea.
Since morning Jim had lived in some wonderful paradise, which even now seemed unstable, fugitive, and dreamlike.
“Angela, tell me it isn’t a dream.”
“Ah!”
He nestled closer to her and found the soft small hand beneath the rug spread over their knees. There was no attempt on her part to withdraw it. Instead, she gripped the big muscular fingers caressingly.
“I can’t get it straight yet,” he muttered. “It was only this morning I was in hell. You’re sure this ain’t some game that’ll land me back in the mud?”
She laughed merrily and pulled his arm round her waist.
“You dear, doubting man! If it’s me you want I’m here with you. I’m substantial enough to be felt, aren’t I?”
“But some things seem too good, and this is one of them. I had a hunch I’d never quite reach out over that pride of yours.”