Rose MacLeod - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Then they laughed.
"This is nothing to what I can do," said Osmond. "I shall read the poets."
He leaned to her and they kissed, like children. Tears came into his eyes. He foresaw strange beauties he had never dreamed of. There would be the sweet, slumbrous valleys and the sharp lightnings of fierce love, but there would be also the homely intimacies, the foolishness of children who, hand in hand, can smile at everything.
"Do you suppose you could tell what I am thinking?" he wondered.
The air of the playhouse seemed to be about her, and she knew.
"You are playing we are on a s.h.i.+p," she said.
"Yes, we two alone--"
"We're just starting on the great adventure--"
