‘For a long time, Roddy?’ She saw him nod his head; and she bowed her own and began to sob, but without tears. He murmured some low inarticulate exclamation, and took her gently in his arms. ‘Don’t cry, Judy. Don’t cry.... Darling, don’t.’ The tenderness of his voice checked her in an instant. His hand moved up and down her bare arm, lingering over its curves, tracing the outline with a touch that made her shiver. ‘Lovely smooth arm,’ he whispered. ‘You are so lovely.’ ‘No.’ ‘Yes. I think so. I’ve always thought so.’ ‘As long as you think so, then--that’s all I care about. You--can have it all.’ ‘Oh, Judy!’ Now the moon rose, clear at last above the tree tops, and gleamed strangely into the eyes bent upon her face. His lips were smiling a faint fixed smile. His teeth glinted. The two faces gazed at one another, floating wan upon darkness. The web had broken. Roddy had shaken himself free and come close at last. The whole of their past lives had led them inevitably to this hour. ‘Oh, Roddy, I love your hair....’ Her hand went up and stroked it; and he shut his eyes. ‘I love your eyes.’ ‘I love you all--every bit of you.’ Breathless, sure of him at last, with a delicious last-minute postponement of his embrace she moved away, softly laughing. ‘Roddy, how much do you like me? This much?’ She held out her hands, parting them slowly. ‘More than that.’ ‘This much?’ He copied her, laughing eagerly but silently. ‘This much?’ He held his arms out wide. She hesitated a moment and then came into them; and he was not laughing any more, but covering her face and neck with kisses. It was a quivering darkness of all the senses, warm, melting, relentless, tender. This stranger was draining her of power; but underneath, the springs of life welled up and up with a strong new beat. He clung to her with all his force as if he could never let her go. He was a stranger, but she knew him and had known him always. She took his caressing hands and held them on her breast. In that moment he was her child; and she longed to lay his head where his hands quietly lay. He drew deep breaths, and now and then his rich voice murmured a broken word or two. She raised her head from his shoulder and gazed in passionate detail at his face. ‘Speak, Roddy, speak.’ He shook his head and smiled--a ghost of his former smile, flickering on his lips alone. His half-shut eyes glittered as if with tears. In the moonlight she worshipped his dark head and moon-blanched features. Gradually he loosened his hold, threw his head back, and stood motionless, arms hanging at his sides, his face an unconscious, sleeping mask. If Roddy were to die young, this was how he would look. ‘Roddy--Roddy--Roddy--I love you--I love you--I love you.’ No answer. He stooped his head and fell to closer kissing. ‘Roddy--say----’ ‘What do you want me to say?’ he whispered. Again the flickering smile. ‘I love you, Roddy.’