They skimmed the wooded cliffs of Bay Ridge, her heart beating in ecstasy at the revelation of beauty of whose existence she had not dreamed.
“I bet you never saw this drive before, now did you?” he asked with boyish enthusiasm.
“No—it's wonderful.”
“Some view—eh?”
“Entrancing!”
“You know when I make my pile, I'd like a palace of white marble perched on this cliff with the windows on the south looking out over Sandy Hook, and the windows on the west looking over that fort on the top of Staten Island with its black eyes gazing over the sea. How would you like that?”
She turned away to mask the smile she couldn't repress.
“That would be splendid, wouldn't it?”
“I like the water, don't you?”
“I love it.”