"I would throw the cross away."

"No, you would keep it; and every time you touched it you would think
of me, Pierre, would you not?"

"When you reach out to me like that, you take my heart between your
hands."

"And I feel grown up and sad and happy both together. After we've been
together on such a night, how can we ever be apart again?"

The mass of the landslide toppled right above them. She did not seem
to see.

"I'm so happy, Pierre. I was never so happy."

And he said, with his eyes on the approaching ruin: "It was your
singing that brought me to you. Will you sing again?"

"I sang because I knew that when I sang the sound would carry farther
through the wind than if I called for help. What shall I sing for you
now, Pierre?"

"What you sang when I came to you."

And the light, sweet voice rose easily through the sweep of the wind.
She smiled as she sang, and the smile and music were all for Pierre,
he knew. Through the last stanza of the song the rumble of the
approaching death grew louder, and as she ended he threw himself