But Dick was drawing her toward the side of the ship and now they were both leaning against the railing looking down at the glossy darkness beneath them.
"Yes, Mildred is my sister and Nona my friend," Dick continued, "yet neither one of them can mean to me what the girl I would choose above all others to be my wife means. Don't answer me for a moment, Barbara. I have no delusion about your feeling for me, but that makes no difference. I want you to know that ever since those first days in New York you have filled the greater portion of my world. No matter what may happen to divide us, nor how far your life may lead away from mine, I shall not change."
The girl and man were standing within only a few feet of each other. Now Barbara moved closer and laid her hand on her companion's coat sleeve.
"I am not very anxious for anything to divide us, nor for my life to lead far away from yours," she whispered.
At this moment the bank of fog rolled up as if it were a stage curtain being raised in answer to the prompter's bell, when for the first time that evening Dick and Barbara caught the vision of each other's faces.
CHAPTER XX Noel
It was Christmas morning in southern France. For several hours a light snow had been falling, but had not stayed upon the ground. Yet it clothed the branches of the trees with white lace and filled the air with jewels.