But as he did want more she would, after her own way, reply to him.

So there came upon his arm the slightest possible sense of pressure from those sweet fingers, and Harry Annesley was on a sudden carried up among azure-tinted clouds into the farthest heaven of happiness.

After a moment he stood still, and passed his fingers through his hair and waved his head as a god might do it.

She had now made to him a solemn promise than which no words could be more binding.

"Oh, Florence," he exclaimed, "I must have you alone with me for one moment." For what could he want her alone for any moment?
thought Florence.