"God forgive us! God forgive us!" Lawrence also cried; and he added, as he held his burden tightly, "I can't let you go. No, not if heaven and hell tried to part us. Now you are mine."
But not all the intoxication of that moment could prevent the picture of Carolyn's face from coming suddenly and clearly before Lawrence as he spoke. That once it came, then vanished.
It was several moments before Prudence lifted her head and looked about her.
The north shore had approached still nearer,—so near that her strong eyes could see bonfires on the beach, and children feeding the flames, and cottages behind, lighted up by the flickering brilliance.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I don't know. Wherever you say. Somewhere where there's a clergyman who will marry us?"
"Yes. And we must make some definite plan."
"You make the plan."
"I will try. As for me, I'd like to go on like this for days, driven by the warm wind between ocean and sky, and with no one but you,—no one but you." She repeated the words in a tone just loud enough for him to hear. "You love me, then?"
"Love you? Do I not prove it?" he asked.