Once or twice at first he leaned forward over her shoulder and set his cheek to her glowing cheek.

Then she, as if swayed by a tide, strained back to him, and felt his kisses hot and eager, his few and pelting words, 'My bride--at last--my bride!' and the pressure of his hand upon her heart.
That hand knows what tune the heart drummed out.

Mostly she sat up before him stiff as a sapling, with eyes and ears wide for any hint of pursuit.

But he felt her tremble, and knew she would be glad of him yet.
After all, they had six burning days for a honeymoon, days which made those three who with them held the tower wonder how such a match could continue.

Richard's love rushed through him like a river in flood, that brims its banks and carries down bridges by its turbid mass; but hers was like the sea, unresting, ebbing, flowing, without aim or sure direction.