"Beginning?" he echoed. "Yes, that's it. It must be the beginning of something that will never have an end."
Her dusky eyes glowed.
"Never!" she repeated, and then, as an unreasoned wistfulness shot through her, she whispered: "It never will end, will it, Jim?"
"How could it, sweetheart?"
"But I mean it will always go on like this—just like this. I don't want us just to grow used to each other, just stupid and merely satisfied—just—just affectionate and fond."
"We can never come to that. We love too much, Muriel."
"Then don't let's forget ever," she pleaded, her arms tightening. "It must all be honeymoon, forever and forever."
He raised her face and kissed her.
"Always," he said—"always morning. We will never let the shadows lengthen; we will hold back the hands of the clock." He kissed her again. "You know that we will?" he asked.
"I know—I know," she answered.