“N-no!” Yamina answered after a moment. “It would be – sacrilege to decry anything so beautiful – so wonderful! I felt as if you carried me to the very top of Mount Olympus. We were not human beings – but Gods! It was a – rapture that was – divine!”

Lord Castleford rose from his chair to stand beside her.

“My beloved darling!” he said softly. “That is what I felt too. It was love as it is meant to be. Not a quiet, sentimental, sloppy emotion, but something great, stupendous, as mighty as the sea, as magnificent as a tempest, as invincible as the burning heart of the sun! That, Yamina, is what I feel for you!”

She turned towards him and, as he put his arms around her, he knew that she was trembling at the sudden ecstasy his words had evoked.

He looked down into her eyes.

“I love you!” he said very gently, “and that is why, my precious, I know that I cannot live without you and for either of us to be complete we must be together!”

“It is – impossible!” Yamina said. “You must know that it is – impossible!”

He did not answer, he merely bent his head and found her lips and now they clung together like two children who had been frightened and could only find security by the touch and feel of the other.

Yamina’s arms went around his neck and he held her closer and still closer as if he was making her a part of himself and it was impossible for them ever to be divided.

Then there was a sound outside the door and they knew that Jenkins was bringing in their luncheon.

Slowly they moved apart.

For Yamina it was almost as if a sword divided them and the hurt of it was agony.

‘How can I – leave him?’ she asked herself. ‘Oh, God – how can I – leave him and face the future – alone?’

Chapter Seven

Jenkins had excelled himself in his efforts to provide them with a delicious meal and Lord Castleford had brought aboard with him a golden wine that tasted like liquid sunshine.

It was, however, difficult for Yamina to think of anything but the man sitting opposite her, knowing when their eyes met it seemed as if the world stood still.

She wondered how she had ever thought him aloof and indifferent.

Now he seemed to her to vibrate with feeling and his voice had a new depth and warmth that had not been there before.

She had never imagined that it was possible to feel as she did and to know a new awareness which seemed to seep through her body and make her feel as if she had never been alive before.

She had dreamt of being in love, in Russia. Love was a part of living – the music, the literature, the thought, the people themselves were all activated by love in one way or another.