Harley understood all, and a shiver passed over him. But his fear was for her, not for himself.
"It is going to snow," said Sylvia.
"And we are lost in this desert; it was I, too, who brought you here," said Harley.
She looked up into his eyes, and her face was not pale.
"We are together," she said.
He bent his head and kissed her, for the second time that day.
"You are the bravest woman in the world, Sylvia," he said. "Now we live or die together, and we are not afraid."
"We are not afraid."
He put his arm around her waist, and she did not resist. Both expected to die, and they felt that they belonged to each other for eternity. A strange, spiritual exaltation possessed them; the world about them was unreal now—they two were all that was real.
"The snow comes, dearest," she said.