Thought of it and the questions he would ask did not frighten her, and a happiness which he had persistently held away from himself triumphed in a sudden, submerging flood.

It was as if something in her eyes and voice had promised him that the dreams he had dreamed through weeks of torture and living death were coming true, and that possibly in her ride over the tundra that night she had come a little nearer to the truth of what those weeks had meant to him.

Surely he would never quite be able to tell her.

And what she said to him tomorrow would, in the end, make little difference.

She was alive, and he could not let her go away from him again.
He joined the tom-tom beaters and the dancers.