“I fancied—that by telling you, I should be free to give myself up to a new, strange, wonderful world that I saw ready to open for me.”
“Could I ever say 'I thank you' for telling me?” replied Katherine. “I take all that you have said to my heart.”
There was a long silence. He put his hand down by her side and it rested upon hers. She made a movement to withdraw it, but his touch tightened into a clasp. She allowed it to remain, surrendering herself to the happiness. Each felt the subtle communion of spirit too precious to be broken by speech. The lantern-hung boats passed backwards and forwards. One party, just as they came abreast, struck up an attempt at a jodeling song: “Juch hol-dio hol-di-ai-do hol-di-a hol-dio.”
The suddenness startled them. Katherine drew away her hand hastily as he looked round.
“Why did you?” he asked.
“Because—because the little dream-time came to an end.”
“Why should it?”
“It is the nature of dreams.”
“Why, then, should it be a dream?”
“Because it can never be a reality.”