"Not be-creeped—are you?" Roy asked.
"Just the littlest bit! Nice kind of creeps. I feel quite safe—with you."
The path was rough in parts. Once she stumbled and his hand closed lightly on her arm under the cloak. She felt safe with him—and he must turn and smite her——!
At their approach, the monkey fled with a gibbering squeak: and Roy loosened his hold. Between them and the lake loomed the noble bulk of the palace; roof-terraces and façades bathed in silver, splashed with indigo shadow; but for them—mere man and woman—its imperishable strength and beauty had suddenly become a very little thing. They scarcely noticed it even.
"There—sit," Roy said softly, and she obeyed.
Her smile mutely invited him; but he could not trust himself—yet. He might have known the moonlight would go to his head.
"Arúna—my dear——" he plunged without preamble. "I took you away from them all because—well—we can't pretend any more ... you and I. It's fate—and there we are. I love you—dearly—truly. But...."
How could one go on?
"Oh, Roy!"
Her lifted gaze, her low impassioned cry told all; and before that too clear revealing his hard-won resolution quailed.