And then suddenly—how, neither he nor she could tell—as the laughter of the others below reached them, he leaned forward and his lips were pressed upon hers, gently, yet lingeringly, lovingly, and then he lifted his head—unrepulsed!
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
And still Carlita did not move. She lay there staring up at him, as if some intoxicant had got into her veins, paralyzing motion and emotion. She was not conscious of sensation, and yet she saw the light of unutterable happiness in his eyes, and understood it perfectly.
He put out his hand and clasped hers with reverent devotion. His lips moved, and she heard him whisper:
"Thank God! my darling, I know that you are mine at last!"
His lips touched the pink palm as it lay upturned in his, then, with a shiver of returning consciousness she realized that the others were coming upon deck.
She rose swiftly, nervously.
"Let us go back at once—at once!" she exclaimed, hoarsely. "I—I think I am—ill!"