Eve paused when they had gone some two hundred yards into the woods. The canopy of boughs was a black vaulting, with here and there a crevice where the moonlight entered to fall in streaks and splashes upon the tree trunks and the ground. On every side were the crowding fir boles that blotted out the distance and obscured each other. The woodland floor was covered deep with pine needles, and from somewhere came the smell of bracken. “Now, let me hear everything.” He appeared a little in awe of her, and for the moment she was the stronger. “I have told you all that there is to tell. I want you to be the bigger part of my life—the inward life that not another soul knows.” “Not even Lynette?” “She is but a child.” Eve began to walk to and fro, and Canterton kept pace with her. “Let’s be practical. Let’s be cold, and sure of things. You want me to be a spiritual wife to you, and a spiritual mother to Lynette?” “Yes.” “And you think you can live such a life?” “I know I can.” She was smiling, the strange, ironical, half-exultant smile of a love that is not blind. “You are sure of yourself. Let me ask you a question. Are you sure of me?” He looked at her searchingly in the dim light. “Eve, I am not vain enough to ask you whether——” “Whether I care?” “You have said it.” She paused, gazing at the ground. “Is a man so much slower than a woman?” “Sometimes one does not dare to think——” “But the woman knows without daring.” He stood silently before her, full of that devout wonder that had made him such a watcher in Nature’s world. “Then, surely, child——” Her face and eyes flashed up to him, and her hands quivered. “Don’t call me child! Haven’t you realised that I am a woman?” “The one woman.” “There, it is all so impossible! And you don’t understand.” He spoke gently, almost humbly. “Why is it impossible? What is it that I don’t understand?” “Oh, dear man, must I show you everything? This is why it is impossible.” Her arms went out and were round his neck. Her mouth was close to his. In the taking of a breath she had kissed him, and he had returned the kiss, and his arms were round her. “Jim, don’t you understand now? I care too much. That is why it is impossible.” * * * * * CHAPTER XIX AN HOUR IN THE FIR WOODS The warm scent of the fir woods was about them, and a darkness that made their very thoughts seem secret and secure. They were the lovers of some ancient tale wandering in an old forest of enchantments, seeing each other’s faces pale and yearning in the dim light under the trees. Eve rested against Canterton’s outspread arm, her head upon his shoulder, as they wandered to and fro between the tall trunks of the firs. They were like ghosts gliding side by side, for the carpet of pine needles deadened the sound of their footsteps, and they spoke but little, in voices that were but murmurs.