She shivered under them a little, feeling, almost guiltily, the glow of her own life, the passion of her own hopes.
Marsham watched her as she sat on the other side of the fire, her beautiful head a little bent and pensive, the firelight playing on the oval of her cheek.

How glad he was that he had not spoken!--that the barrier between them still held.

A man may find heaven or hell on the other side of it.

But merely to have crossed it makes life the poorer.
One more of the great, the irrevocable moments spent and done--yielded to devouring time.

He hugged the thought that it was still before him.
The very timidity and anxiety he felt were delightful to him; he had never felt them before.