No imperious gesture, as before; but a lightning gleam of recognition, of welcome and—something more——?
He hurried now....
Next instant, they were together, hands locked, eyes deep in eyes. The surface sense of strangeness between them, the undersense of intimate nearness—thrilling as it was—made speech astonishingly difficult.
"Tara," he said, just above his breath.
Her sensitive lips parted, trembled—and closed again.
"Tara!" he repeated, dizzily incredulous, where a moment earlier he had been arrogantly certain. "Is it true ... what your eyes are telling me? Can you forgive ... my madness out there? Half across the world you called to me; and I've come home to you ... with every atom of me ... I'm loving you; and I'm still ... bracelet-bound...."
This time her lips trembled into a smile. "And it's not one of the Prayer-book affinities!" she reminded him, a gleam of that other Tara in her eyes.
"No, thank God—it's not! But you haven't answered me, you know...."
"Roy, what a story! When you know I really said it first!" Her eyes were saying it again now; and he, bereft of words, mutely held out his arms.
If she paused an instant, it was because she felt even dizzier than he. But the power of his longing drew her like a physical force—and, as his lips claimed hers, the terror of love and its truth caught her and swept her from known shores into uncharted seas....