The flush of pride, of love, burned deeper in her face.
“Oh, why is it given to me to have such bliss?” she murmured.
The words were low-breathed; they sounded like a gasping sigh of delight more than a voiced utterance.
For a moment, clasped tightly in his arms, she was silent, and he uttered no word. Presently he whispered,
“Will it give you joy, I wonder, my darling, to know that I have been a man free of all woman’s love before? I have seen many women, in many lands, the loveliest of the earth—though none so lovely as you, my sweetheart. It is no egotism on my part, either, to say that many women have sought my love by their smiles and favour. But none ever won a word of love or response from me.”
The cab was passing a great central light in the heart of a junction of four roads. Her eyes, full of a great rapture, sought his. His were fixed upon her face, and filled with a love so great that again she caught her breath in wonder.
“But you, my Zillah!” He caught her close to himself again, and bending his head, let his lips cling to hers, “But you, darling!” he continued, “have been to me all that the heart of man could ever wish for, from the first moment I met you. May God give us a long life together, dearest, and make us (with our new-born faith in Him) to be the best, the holiest help-meets, the one to the other, that this world has ever known.”
Where she lay in his arms, he felt her tremble with the intensity of her joy. As he looked down into the deep, dreamy lustrousness of her eyes, he saw how they were full of a far-off look, as though she was picturing that united future of which he had spoken.
Perhaps he read that look in her eyes aright. Then, as he watched her, he saw how the colour deepened in her face. She slowly, proudly, yet with a glad frankness, lifted herself in his arms until, in a tender, passionate caress, her lips rested upon his in the first spontaneous kiss she had given him.