And so it is with the drift of wandering winds; with the whirl and crystals of driving snow, with the slant and splash of rain.
And so, too, with the flight of birds; the dash and tumble of restless brooks; the roar of lawless thunder and the songs of birds.
The one exception is when we hold in our arms the woman we love, and for the first time drink in her willing soul through her lips.

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.
"When ?" asked Jack, his eager eyes on the opening door.
"Now, this very minute.