him a glance rich with meaning.

"Our love, then: the most beautiful thing in the world."

"Which, unlike everything else, never dies," she declared.

They drank. Mavis presently put down her knife and fork, to take
Perigal's and feed him with tid-bits from her or his plate. She would
not allow him to eat of anything without her sanction; she stuffed him
as the dictates of her fancy suggested. Then she mixed great black
berries with the Cornish cream. When they had eaten their fill, she lit
a cigarette, while her lover ate cheese. When he had finished, he sat
quite close to her as he smoked. Mavis abandoned herself to the
enjoyment of her cigarette; supported by her lover's arm, she looked
lazily at the wild beauty spread so bountifully about her. The sun, the
sea, the sky, the cliff, the day all seemed an appropriate setting to
the love which warmed her body. The man at her side possessed her
thoughts to the exclusion of all else; she threw away her half-smoked
cigarette to look at him with soft, tremulous eyes. Suddenly, she put
an arm about his neck and bent his face back, which accomplished, she
leant over him to kiss his hair, eyes, neck, and mouth.

"I love you! I love you! I love you!" she murmured.

"You're wonderful, little Mavis--wonderful."

Her kisses intoxicated him. He closed his eyes and slept softly. She
pulled him towards her, so that his head was pillowed on her heart;
then, feeling blissfully, ecstatically happy, she closed her eyes and
turned her head so that the sunlight beat full on her face. She lost
all sense of surroundings and must have slept for quite two hours. When
she awoke, the sun was low in the heavens. She shivered slightly with
cold, and was delighted to see the kettle boiling for tea on a
spirit-lamp, which Perigal had lit in the shelter of the luncheon
basket.

"How thoughtful of my darling!" she remarked.

"It's just boiling. I won't keep you a moment longer than I can help."

She sipped her tea, to feel greatly refreshed with her sleep. They ate
heartily at this meal. They were both so radiantly happy that they
laughed whenever there was either the scantiest opportunity or none at
all. The most trivial circumstance delighted them; sea and sky seemed
to reflect their boundless happiness. The sea had, by now, crept quite
close to them: they amused themselves by watching the myriads of
sand-flies which were disturbed by every advancing wave.

"We must soon be thinking of j