window and lamp-post on the way.

At one corner a group of men wrangled drunkenly outside a public-house.
Down one deserted street another drunkard staggered, cursing with awful
curses a slipshod woman who kept pace with him on the pavement and
answered him with nerveless jeers. Just beyond a man overtook them,
walking swiftly, his tread echoing as he went; he turned and looked at
her as he passed; he had a short board and wore a "hard hitter." Then
there was a girl plying her sorry trade, talking in the shadow with a
young man, spruce and white-shirted. They had to wait at one street for a
tram to rush past screeching and rattling. At one crossing Ned had seized
her arm because a cab was coming carelessly. One of the lovers in the
avenue was tracing lines on the ground with a stick, while her sweetheart
leaned over her. Down under the rocks she saw the forms of sleepers here
and there; from one clump of bushes came a sound of heavy snoring. She
saw all this, everything, a thousand incidents, but she did not heed
them. She was as one in a daze; or as one who moves and thinks and sees,
sleep-walking.

So they reached the point by Lady Macquarie's Chair, paused for a moment
at the turn, hesitated, then together, as of one accord, went down the
grassy slope by the landing stairs and out upon the rough wave-eaten
fringe of rock to the water's edge. They were alone together, alone in
Paradise. There were none others in the whole world.

Above them, almost overhead, in the starry sky, the full round moon was
sailing, her white glare falling upon a matchless scene of mingling land
and water, sea and shore and sky. Like a lake the glorious harbour
stretched before them and on either hand. In its bosom the moon sailed as
in a mirror; on it great ships floated at anchor and islets nestled down;
all round the sheltering hills verily clapped their hands. In the great
dome of the universe there was not a cloud. Through the starless windows
of that glorious dome they could see into the fathomless depths of
Eternity. Under the magic of the moon not even the sordid work of man
struck a discordant note. At their feet the faint ripplings of this
crystal lake whispered their ceaseless lullaby and close behind them the
trees rustled softly in the languid breathings of the sleeping sea. Of a
truth it was Paradise, fit above all fitness to gladden the hearts of
men, worthy to fill the soul to overflowing with the ecstasy of living,
deserv