Then, and only then, does the note of perfect harmony ring true
through the spheres.
For a long time they sat perfectly still. Not many words had
passed, and these were only repetitions of those they had used
before. "Such dear hands," Jack would say, and kiss them both up
and down the fingers, and then press the warm, pink shell palm to
his lips and kiss it again, shutting his eyes, with the reverence
of a devotee at the feet of the Madonna.
"And, Jack dear," Ruth would murmur, as if some new thought had
welled up in her heart--and then nothing would follow, until Jack
would loosen his clasp a little--just enough to free the dear
cheek and say:
"Go on, my darling," and then would come--
"Oh, nothing, Jack--I--" and once more their lips would meet.
It was only when MacFarlane's firm step was heard on the stairs
outside that the two awoke to another world. Jack reached his feet
first.
"Shall we tell him?" he asked, looking down into her face.
"Of course, tell him," braved out Ruth, uptilting her head with
the movement of a fawn surprised in the forest.
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