Every woman who loves her husband must know what it is, but to me it was
a great revelation. It was just as if some new passion had sprung into
life in me at a single moment. And it had--the mighty passion that lies
at the root of our being, the overwhelming instinct of sex which, taking
no account of religion and resolutions, sweeps everything before it like
a flood.
I think Martin must have felt it too, for all at once he ceased to
speak, and I was trembling so much with this new feeling of tenderness
that I could not utter a word. So I heard nothing as we walked on but
the crackle of our footsteps on the gravel path and the measured boom of
the sea which we were leaving behind us--nothing but that and the quick
beating in my own breast.
When we came to the garden the frowning face of the old house was in
front of us, and it was all in darkness, save for the light in my room
which came out on to the balcony. Everything was quiet. The air was
breathless. There was not a rustle in the trees.
We took two or three turns on the lawn in front of my windows, saying
nothing but feeling terribly, fearfully happy.
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