They said less, in this hour alone together, than they said in any
evening of their journey. And yet they both felt as if it was the most
nearly perfect of their hours.
Perhaps it was because the sky was more magnificent than it had been
before; the stars larger and nearer and the sky more deeply, richly
blue.
Perhaps it was because after the dusk and heat of the day, the uproar
of the sand and wind, the cool silence was doubly impressive and thrice
grateful.
And perhaps it was because of some wordless, intangible reason, that
only lovers know, which made Diana seem more beautiful, more pure, her
touch more sacred, and Enoch stronger, finer, tenderer than ever before.
At any rate, walking slowly, with their arms about each other, they
were deeply happy.
And Enoch said, "Diana, I know now that not one moment of the
loneliness and the bitterness of the years, would I part with. All of
it serves to make this moment more perfect."
And suddenly Diana said, "Enoch, hold me close to you again, here,
under the stars, so that I may never again look at them, when I'm alone
in the desert, without feeling your dear arms about me, and your dear
cheek against mine."
And when they were back by the fire again, Enoch once more leaned
against Diana's knee and felt the soft touch of her hand on his hair
and forehead.
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