It was a night of nights, never to be forgotten. Maxwell did not take Anne into the Gallery. He had not brought her there to hear speeches or to be conspicuous in the glare of lights. He led her through shadowy corridors—up wide dim stairways.
At one turn he touched her arm. "Look!" he whispered.
"What?"
"Lafayette passed us—on the stairs."
It was a great game! On the east front Columbus spoke to them of ships that sailed toward the sunset; in the Rotunda they kept a tryst with William Penn; from the west-front portico they saw a city beautiful—the streets under the moon were rivers of light—the great monument reached like the soul of Washington toward the stars!
Out there in the moonlight Maxwell spoke of another great soul, gone of late to join a glorious company.
"It was he who taught me that life is an adventure."
"Greatheart?"
"Yes."
"You loved him too?"