Not until they were in their seat in the coach did Joanne look at him after that pressure of her hand, and then she did not speak.

But in the veiled glow of her eyes there was something that told him she understood--a light that was wonderfully gentle and sweet.

And yet, without words, she asked him to keep within his soul the things that were pounding madly there for speech.
As the train rolled on and the babble of voices about them joined the crunching rumble of the wheels, he wanted to lean close to her and tell her how a few hours had changed the world for him.

And then, for a moment, her eyes turned to him again, and he knew that it would be a sacrilege to give voice to the things he wanted to say.

For many minutes he was silent, gazing with her upon the wild panorama of mountain beauty as it drifted past the car window.