He saw the first faint flush returning into her cheeks, the reddening of her lips, the gentle tremor of her silken lashes, and forgetful of all else but her, he moaned her name, cried out his love for her, again and again, even as her eyes opened and she stared up into the face of the man who had come to her first at Lac Bain, and who had fought for her there.

For a breath or two the wonder of this thing that was happening held her speechless and still lifeless, though her senses were adjusting themselves with lightning swiftness.

At first Philip had not seen her open eyes, and he believed that she did not hear the words of love he whispered in her hair.

When he raised her face a little from his breast she was looking at him with all the sweet sanity in the world.
A moment there was silence--a silence of even the breath in Philip's body, the beating of his heart.

His arms loosened a little.