"Good, isn't it? I suppose it _is_ from Shakespeare?"
"I don't know. I'll ask him--I'll look it up. If ever I see you again
I'll tell you."
"I wish you would, because--because, if it gives us _life_, perhaps
it'll carry us along."
With a quick movement he drew her to him and kissed her passionately on
the lips.
A minute later he had sunk back on the seat out of which he had sprung.
He knew she was disappearing through the crowd that, satiated with
gazing, was sauntering away from the parapet. But he made no attempt to
follow her with so much as a glance. Slowly, vaguely, mistily, like a
man tired of the earthly vision, he was letting his eyes roam along the
line of shining spiritual presences.