Everything depends on you."
Evidently Jarvo had been waiting for this stretch of open road and
expecting the other car to take it. He bent forward, his wiry
little frame like a quivering spring controlling the motion. The
motor leaped at his touch. Away down the road they tore with the
wind singing its challenge. Second by second they saw their
gain increase. The uniforms of the guards in the car became
distinguishable. The white of Olivia's veil merged in the
brightness of her gown--was it only the shining of the gold of the
uniforms or could St. George see the floating gold of her hair?
Ah, wonderful, past all speech it was wonderful to be fleeing
toward her through this pale light that was like a purer element
than light itself. With the phantom moving of the boughs in the
wood on either side light seemed to dance and drip from leaf to
leaf--the visible spirit of the haunted green. The unreality of it
all swept over him almost stiflingly. Olivia--was it indeed Olivia
whom he was following down lustrous ways of a land vague as a
star; or was his pursuit not for her, but for the exquisite,
incommunicable Idea, and was he following it through a world
forth-fashioned from his own desire?
Suddenly indistinguishable sounds were in his ears, words from
Amory, from Jarvo certain exultant gutturals.
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