he held her round the
neck, too, and continued to run on still faster. He could hardly realize
that he loved her so much! To think that she was now twenty-three and
he nearly twenty-eight; that they might have been married two years ago,
and as happy then as to-night!

At last they arrived at home, that poor lodging, with its damp flooring
and moss-grown roof. They lit the candle, which the wind blew out twice.

Old grandam Moan, who had been taken home before the singing began, was
there. She had been sleeping for the last two hours in her bunk, the
flaps of which were shut. They drew near with respect and peeped through
the fretwork of her press, to bid her good-night, if by chance she were
not asleep. But they only perceived her still venerable face and closed
eyes; she slept, or she feigned to do so, not to disturb them.

They felt they were alone then. Both trembled as they clasped hands.
He bent forward to kiss her lips; but Gaud turned them aside, through
ignorance of that kind of kiss; and as chastely as on the evening of
their betrothal, she pressed hers to Yann's cheek, which was chilled,
almost frozen, by the wind.

It was bitterly cold in their poor, low-roofed cottage. If Gaud had only
remained rich, what happiness she would have felt in arranging a pretty
room, not like this one on the bare ground! She was scarcely yet used to
these rugged granite walls, and the rough look of all things around; but
her Yann was there now, and by his presence everything was changed and
transfigured. She saw only her husband. Their lips met now; no turning
aside. Still standing with their arms intertwined tightly to draw
themselves together, they remained dumb, in the perfect ecstasy of a
never-ending kiss. Their fluttering breath commingled, and both quivered
as if in a burning fever. They seemed without power to tear themselves
apart, and knew nothing and desired nothing beyond that long kiss of
consecrated love.

She drew herself away, suddenly agitated. "Nay, Yann! Granny Yvonne
might see us," she faltered.

But he, with a smile, sought his wife's lips again and fastened his own
upon them, like a thirsty man whose cup of fresh water had been taken
from him.

The movement they had made broke the charm of delightful hesitation.
Yann, who, at the first, was going to kneel to her as before a saint,
felt himself fired again. He glanced stealthily towards the old oaken
bunk, irritated at being so close to the old woma