But one can’t make use of just anyone’s divinity.  I can see the divinity in Martineau but it leaves me cold.  He tired me and bored me....  But I live on you.  It’s only through love that the God can reach over from one human being to another.  All real love is a divine thing, a reassurance, a release of courage.  It is wonderful enough that we should take food and drink and turn them into imagination, invention and creative energy; it is still more wonderful that we should take an animal urging and turn it into a light to discover beauty and an impulse towards the utmost achievements of which we are capable.  All love is a sacrament and all lovers are priests to each other.  You and I—­”

Sir Richmond broke off abruptly.  “I spent three days trying to tell this to Dr. Martineau.  But he wasn’t the priest I had to confess to and the words wouldn’t come.  I can confess it to you readily enough....”

“I cannot tell,” said Miss Grammont, “whether this is the last wisdom in life or moonshine.  I cannot tell whether I am thinking or feeling; but the noise of the water going over the weir below is like the stir in my heart.  And I am swimming in love and happiness.  Am I awake or am I dreaming you, and are we dreaming one another?  Hold my hand—­hold it hard and tight.  I’m trembling with love for you and all the world....  If I say more I shall be weeping.”

For a long time they stood side by side saying not a word to one another.

Presently the band down below and the dancing ceased and the little lights were extinguished.  The silent moon seemed to grow brighter and larger and the whisper of the waters louder.  A crowd of young people flowed out of the gardens and passed by on their way home.  Sir Richmond and Miss Grammont strolled through the dispersing crowd and over the Toll Bridge and went exploring down a little staircase that went down from the end of the bridge to the dark river, and then came back to their old position at the parapet looking upon the weir and the Pulteney Bridge.  The gardens that had been so gay were already dark and silent as they returned, and the streets echoed emptily to the few people who were still abroad.

“It’s the most beautiful bridge in the world,” said Miss Grammont, and gave him her hand again.

Some deep-toned clock close by proclaimed the hour eleven.

The silence healed again.

“Well?” said Sir Richmond.

“Well?” said Miss Grammont smiling very faintly.

“I suppose we must go out of all this beauty now, back to the lights of the hotel and the watchful eyes of your dragon.”

“She has not been a very exacting dragon so far, has she?”

“She is a miracle of tact.”

“She does not really watch.  But she is curious—­and very sympathetic.”

“She is wonderful."....

“That man is still fishing,” said Miss Grammont.

For a time she peered down at the dark figure wading in the foam below as though it was the only thing of interest in the world.  Then she turned to Sir Richmond.