"It's an awfully long way."
"Not so long as you think."
"No, no; it's easy to descend to Avernus, or whatever it was; but to get back! I'd never have the strength for that."
"It's not far. Let's walk to keep warm. You are cold, aren't you?"
"Frozen, that's all. Well, come along, I'll go part way with you."
They set out upon the little path. There were no trees to shelter them now from the moon, and its light seemed to beat upon the hillside like waves. The moon that draws the sea along in tides could not but have its influence on these two atoms, and on the blood that sped through their tiny veins. The moon filled them with the love of love.
Constantly pausing to turn back, but finding it easier to drift on down than begin the upward climb, Persis went on and on, arm in arm with Forbes. By and by they reached the boundary wall. He helped her to set one knee upon it and mount awkwardly. He clambered up and sat down at her side. Their backs were toward the Enslee demesne, their feet in the unknown.
And there, without delay, Forbes told her that she must be his wife, told her that he loved her as woman had never been loved before.
His hands fought to caress her, his lips tingled to be again at her cheek, but he kept his promise.
Yet the influence of the promise was potent on her, too. She knew that he was in an anguish of temptation, and she glowed with his struggle. The moon and the width of the world, the silent night-cry of the world in the lonely dark, and the yearning light filled her with a need of love. She regretted the promise, she wished that he would break it, and her absolution waited ready for his deed.