He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. "Tell Mr. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean.
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