Jane
slipped one hand through his arm and stood there, breathless,
rapturously watchful. "This is wonderful," she murmured. "It is the
one thing we have always lacked at Woolhanger. We get the booming of
the wind--wonderful it is, too, like the hollow thunder of guns or the
quick passing of an underground army--but we miss this. I feel,
somehow, as though I knew now why it tears past us, uprooting the very
trees that stand in its way. It rushes to the sea. What a meeting!"
Her hand tightened upon his arm as a great wave broke direct upon the
cliff below and a torrent of wind, rushing through the trees and
downwards, caught the spray and scattered it around them and high over
their heads.
"We humans," he whispered, "are taught our lesson."
"Do we need it?" she asked, with sudden fierceness. "Do you believe
that because some mysterious power imposes restraint upon us, the
passion isn't there all the while?"
She was suddenly in his arms, the warm wind shrieking about them, the
darkness thick and soft as a mantle. Only he saw the anguished
happiness in her eyes as they closed beneath his kisses.
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