“And peace, perfect peace.”
He said nothing. He was looking down now at the sand.
She laid her lips on his warm brown hand.
“There’s all I want here,” she added.
“Let us stay here.”
“But some day we must go back, mustn’t we?”
“Why?”
“Can anything be lifelong—even our honeymoon?”
“Suppose we choose that it shall be?”
“Can we choose such a thing? Is anybody allowed to choose to live always quite happily without duties? Sometimes I wonder. I love this wandering life so much, I am so happy in it, that I sometimes think it cannot last much longer.”