"Yes—no—what matter? They are lovelier than ever they were—my jewels—let me kiss them!"
"And now—this, dear heart!" said she a little tremulously, and laid the gold locket in my hand: and kneeling beside this chuckling stream as we had done once before, I clasped it about her white throat and kissed her until she bade me (a little breathlessly) to remember our waiting guests.
And thus at last, sitting with Diana's hand in mine, behind Diogenes, that four-footed philosopher, we rattled, creaked, and jolted away to our new life and all that the future held for us.