“I’ve acted like a brute since the night we left the cave, Betty.”
“So you have. Deep, ’bysmal brute.”
“I was angry because you said you wouldn’t have George risking his life for you. I was jealous.”
“Oh, darling! Were you really? I gloat!” She rocked in my arms, then grew suddenly serious. “How could I have him risking his life for me, Gardy, dear? I had nothing to give him. I knew then it was you, you; only you. I had no right to let George make any sacrifice for me. You—you were my man. Do you understand?”
“Yes, dear.”
“And when I called to poor Captain Brack that night, Gardy, I was calling to you with my heart. Oh! I was calling so to you. Do you understand that, too, dear?”
“Yes; yes!”
“And—and you heard, too, didn’t you, Gardy? You heard me, because you wanted to hear it, didn’t you? And when we came here this morning, and you were so far-awayish I was afraid you hadn’t heard at all. Oh, Gardy!” She looked up with eyes wet from happiness too great to be suppressed. “Isn’t life good to us? Isn’t it glorious to be alive!”
“And think of it!” I whispered. “We’re just beginning a new life—just beginning to live.”
“Yes,” she whispered, stroking my hand. “We’ve explored the hidden country.” Then she quoted Brack: “‘There is hidden country in all of us; and until we’ve explored it we don’t know what it is to live.’”