told her that he loved her.

This confession of his feelings for her was so sudden, a thing so far
beyond his self-control and so inevitable, that Margaret made no
attempt to withstand it. The beauty of it humbled her to silence; the
generosity of life and its gift to her bewildered her. Two tears
rolled quickly down her cheeks. Michael saw them and loved her all the
more tenderly. Absurd tears, when her heart could not contain all her
happiness! Meg dived for her handkerchief. Michael captured her
hands; he took his own handkerchief and dried her cheeks, while
laughter, mingled with weeping, prevented her from speaking.

"I didn't mean to tell you, Meg," he said. "It just came out, as if it
wasn't my own self who was speaking."

The humour of his words drove the tears from her eyes. Still she did
not speak, but he saw the inference of her smile.

"I mean," he said, "that this other me has loved you all the time, the
me that couldn't help speaking, the me that recognized the fact ever
since I saw you at the ferry. How I loved the first glimpse of you,
Meg!"

He drew her more closely to him. "May I love you, dearest?" He bent
his head; their lips were almost touching; he held her closely. "First
tell me that our friendship is love."

His breath warmed her cheeks; she could feel the tension of his body.
Lost in his strength, Meg was speechless. The greatness of her love
seemed a part of the wide Sahara. The stillness and his arms were
lovelier than all the dreams she had ever dreamed.

His voice was a low whisper. "Meg, do you love me?" His lips had not
taken their due.

Meg's fingers encircled her throat. "Love is choking me. . . . I
can't speak."

Instantly Michael's head bent lower. He kissed her lips, and then, for
the first time, Margaret knew what it was to be dominated by her
senses. Thought fled from her; her lover's lips and his strength, for
he seemed to be holding her up in a great world of impressions in which
she could feel no foundation, were the two things left to her.

Michael realized that now and for ever there could be no going back.
Their old state of friendship was shattered. His kiss had carried them
at a rate which has no definition.

Margaret returned his love with a devout and beautiful passion. Eve
had not been more certain that Adam was intended for her by God.

"Meg," he said, "how do you feel? I feel just a little afraid, I had
no idea that love was like