"In your heart of hearts, Derry, do you believe we are doing right?" "When ethics come in at the door love flies out by the window. We are righting a grievous wrong, and, although our actions must, for a time, be opposed to the generally accepted code of morals, I do honestly believe that this is a case in which the end justifies the means." "If I were stronger, Dear, we might have kept within stricter bounds." "You might have gone to Reno, for instance, and qualified for a divorce by residence?" "Something of the sort." "I'll take you to Reno, if you like; but I'm going with you. Don't forget that he who has begun has accomplished half. Why are you torturing yourself, little woman? Shall I tell you?" "I wish you would." "Because," and his arms were thrown around her, and he kissed away the tears trembling on her lashes, "because, like me, you are really afraid lest we may be too happy. But life is not built on those lines, Deary. It would still hold its tribulations if we could set the calendar back to an April night of three years ago, and you and I were looking forward with bright hope to half a century of wedded joy, with never a cloud on the horizon, and never a memory of dark and deadly abyss crossed in the bygone years. Let us, then, not lose heart in full view of the one threatening storm. Let us rather rejoice that we are facing it together. That is how I feel, Nancy. I have never loved you more than in this hour, and why should I repine because of the greatest gift God can give to man, the unbounded love and trust of the one woman he desires? You are mine, Nancy, mine forever, and I will not let you go till I sink into everlasting night." After that, an interlude, when words were impossible, else both would have sobbed like erring children. At last Nancy raised her eyes, and smiled up into her lover's face, and he understood dimly that, when a woman's conscience wages war with her emotions, there may come a speedy end to the unequal strife. "Derry," she whispered, "have you realized that I don't know where you are taking me?" So the battle had ceased ere it had well begun. Perhaps she was hardly conscious--if she were, she gave no sign--of the crisis dissipated by that simple question. It closed with a clang the door of retreat. Henceforth they would dree their weird hand in hand. They would look only to the future, and stubbornly disregard the past. Shutting rebellious eyes against a mandate written in letters of fire, they would seek comfort in Herrick's time-serving philosophy: "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying." The train slackened speed. They were nearing a wayside station, and they drew apart in confusion like a pair of lovers surprised in some quiet corner. But Power laughed softly, and Nancy caught a new note of content in his voice.