“Are you quite happy with me here in the desert? If you are I want you to tell me that you are. Remember—I shall believe you.”
“No other human being could ever give me the happiness you give me.”
“But—”
He interrupted her.
“No other human being ever has. Till I met you I had no conception of the happiness there is in the world for man and woman who love each other.”
“Then you are happy?”
“Don’t I seem so?”
She did not reply. She was searching her heart for the answer—searching it with an almost terrible sincerity. He waited for her answer, sitting quite still. His hand was always against her face. After what seemed to him an eternity she said:
“Boris!”
“Yes.”