“Yes, I think I understand. That is your Christian religion. It teaches strange things, such as duty, and the battle against sin. It is something that makes one unhappy, uncertain, filled with many fears. It causes men and women to be unhappy in this life that they may be happy in a life to come. The missionary’s wife in Riva explained it to me—and I laughed. I told her I would be happy in this, the only life I know I shall know, and she grew angry and said I was a hopeless heathen.”
Tamea’s silvery little chuckle tinkled faintly on his ear like a distant sheep bell. He hadn’t the slightest objection to spooning with Tamea, but his natural refinement rebelled at a park bench. He felt like a country lover; he wanted to go back to the hotel; he feared some one of the guests might see them and start some silly gossip.
“Let us return to the hotel,” he blurted out bluntly. “Mrs. Casson will be wondering what has become of us.”
Tamea raised his hand and looked at his wrist watch. “We will sit here and talk until midnight,” she declared. “Two hours. It is little enough.”
“Impossible, Tamea. We will get ourselves talked about. Of course I can stand it, but you——”
“I can stand it too, dear Dan. Sit down, do!”
“Tamea! Please be sensible.”
The Queen of Riva stamped her foot. “You will place your arms around me and speak to me of our love,” she commanded.
He obeyed. Nevertheless, while he held her to his breast and whispered to her warm words of love; while his heart poured forth its passion and longing and ecstasy so poignant it was almost pain, the vision of Mellenger obtruded.
He was making a mistake. What his personal opinion of an alliance with Tamea might be mattered not. His friends, the code of his class, forbade the banns; and the realization of this brought him uneasiness and unhappiness even in the midst of his wild happiness. He feared for the future. Tonight the world appeared to stand still in space, but tomorrow it would continue to revolve, and unless he took a very brave and resolute stand, it would move on toward a tragedy.