But this was my inspiration no longer.

I had begun to realize that something deeper, more worthy, now held me to the task.

What this was I made no attempt to analyze--possibly I did not dare--but, nevertheless, the mere conception of deserting her in the midst of this wilderness was too utterly repugnant for expression.

No, not that; whatever happened, it would never be that.
The last few rods of our journey lay through thick underbrush, and beneath the spreading branches of interlacing trees.

It was a gloomy, primitive spot, where no evidence of man was apparent.