Her hand tightened upon his arm as a great wave broke direct upon the
cliff below and a torrent of wind, rushing through the trees and
downwards, caught the spray and scattered it around them and high over
their heads.

"We humans," he whispered, "are taught our lesson."

"Do we need it?" she asked, with sudden fierceness. "Do you believe
that because some mysterious power imposes restraint upon us, the
passion isn't there all the while?"

She was suddenly in his arms, the warm wind shrieking about them, the
darkness thick and soft as a mantle. Only he saw the anguished
happiness in her eyes as they closed beneath his kisses.

"One moment out of life," she faltered, "one moment!"

Another great wave shook the ground beneath them, but she had drawn
away. She struggled for breath. Then once more her hand was thrust
through his arm. He knew so well that his hour was over and he
submitted.

"Back, please," she whispered, "back through the plantation--quietly."

An almost supernatural instinct divined and acceded to her desire for
silence. So they walked slowly back towards the long, low house whose
faint lights flickered through the trees. She leaned a little upon him,
the hand which she had passed through his arm was clasped in his. Only
the wind spoke. When at last they were en the terraces she drew a long
breath.