This time her lips trembled into a smile.  “And it’s not one of the Prayer-book affinities!” she reminded him, a gleam of that other Tara in her eyes.

“No, thank God—­it’s not!  But you haven’t answered me, you know....”

“Roy, what a story!  When you know I really said it first!” Her eyes were saying it again now; and he, bereft of words, mutely held out his arms.

If she paused an instant, it was because she felt even dizzier than he.  But the power of his longing drew her like a physical force—­and, as his lips claimed hers, the terror of love and its truth caught her and swept her from known shores into uncharted seas....

This was a Roy she scarcely knew.  But her heart knew; every pulse of her awakened womanhood knew....

Presently it became possible to think.  Very gently she pushed him back a little.

“O-oh—­I never knew ... you were ... like that!  And you’ve crushed my poor sweet-peas to smithereens!  Now—­behave!  Let me look at you ... properly, and see what India’s done to you.  Give me a chance!”

He gave her a chance, still keeping hold of her—­to make sure she was real.

“High-Tower Princess, are we truly US?  Or is it a ’bewitchery’?” he asked, only half in joke.  “Will you go turning into a butterfly presently——?”

“Promise I won’t!” Her low laugh was not quite steady.  “We’re US—­truly.  And we’ve got to Farthest-End, where your dreams come true.  D’you remember—­I always said they couldn’t.  They were too crazy.  So I don’t deserve——­”

“It’s I that don’t deserve,” he broke out with sudden passion.  “And to find you under our very own tree!  Have you forgotten—­that day?  Of course you went to the ’tipmost top; and I didn’t.  It’s queer—­isn’t it?—­how bits of life get printed so sharply on your brain; and great spaces, on either side, utterly blotted out.  That day’s one of my bits.  Is it so clear—­to you?”

“To me——?” She could scarcely believe he did not know....  Unashamedly, she wanted him to know.  But part of him was strange to her—­thrillingly strange:  which made things not quite so simple.

“Roy,” she went on, after a luminous pause, twisting the top button of his coat.  “I’m going to tell you a secret.  A big one.  For me that Day was ... the beginning of everything.—­Hush—­listen!”—­Her fingers just touched his lips.  “I’m feeling—­rather shy.  And if you don’t keep quiet, I can’t tell.  Of course I always ... loved you, next to Atholl.  But after that ... after the fight, I simply ... adored you.  And ... and ... it’s never left off since....”

“Tara!  My loveliest!” he cried, between ecstasy and dismay; and gathering her close again, he kissed her softly, repeatedly, murmuring broken endearments.  “And there was I...!”

“Yes.  There were you ... with your poems and Aunt Lila and your dreams about India—­always with your head among the stars...”