"Isabel," he said, "are you determined?"
"Quite as much as yesterday," she said, smiling; "and I shall be still more so to-morrow, when the moment comes for action."
"Still. . . . We have known each other hardly four months."
"Meaning thereby? . . ."
"Meaning that, now that we are about to perform an irreparable action, I invite you to use your judgment. . . ."
"Rather than listen to my love? Since I first loved you, Simon, I have not been able to discover the least disagreement between my judgment and my love. That's why I am going with you to-morrow morning."
"Isabel!"
"Would you rather that I left to-morrow night with my father? On a voyage lasting three or four years? That is what he proposes, what he insists upon. It's for you to choose."
While they exchanged these serious words, their faces displayed no trace of the emotion which thrilled the very depths of their beings. It was as though, in being together, they experienced that sense of happiness which gives strength and tranquillity. And, as the girl, like Simon, was tall and bore herself magnificently, they received a vague impression that they were one of those privileged couples whom destiny selects for a life more strenuous, nobler and more passionate than the ordinary.
"Very well," said Simon. "But let me at least appeal to your father. He doesn't know. . . ."