A love such as theirs overrode all petty barriers of every-day right and wrong, and was a law unto itself.

Surely it was vain to struggle against Fate, against the soft yet mighty current which was sweeping her away beyond all landmarks, beyond the sight of land itself, out towards an infinite sea.
And the eyes she loved looked into hers with an agony of entreaty, and the voice she loved spoke of love, spoke brokenly of unworthiness, and an unhappy past, and of a brighter future, a future with _her_.
Her brain reeled; her reason had gone.

Let her yield now.

Surely, if only she could think, if the power to think had not deserted her, it was right to yield.

The current was taking her ever swifter whither she knew not.