Rivière burst out impulsively: "But the days fly by and my Cinderella's midnight rushes nearer!"
"Not yours alone. Mine too!"
"And when our fairy garments turn back to rags?"
"We'll have had our hour—our hour! No one can take that away from us. Its memories——"
"To me it will be the memory of white lilac."
Elaine felt for the flowers in the tall vase by her side, and broke off a small spray.
"Keep this in symbol."
She kissed it before she gave it into his hands.