Chapter XI

One day, when Sweetheart had been weeping--for we were thinking of the end to the magic second--I spoke of our heritage which swept far as the eye could reach across the moors of Faöuet.

She said: "The past is ours, Jack; the present is ours; the future----"

We tried to smile, but our hearts were like lead. Yet we know that the future will also be ours. I know it as I write.