He told her of a despairing two weeks in New York which had terminated with an attractive if not very profitable job in a construction plant in Jersey City. When the Peru business had first presented itself it had not seemed an extraordinary opportunity. He was to be third assistant engineer on the expedition, but only ten of the American party, including eight rodmen and surveyors, had ever reached Cuzco. Ten days later the chief of the expedition was dead of yellow fever. That had been his chance, a chance for anybody but a fool, a marvellous chance——
«A chance for anybody but a fool?» she interrupted innocently.
«Even for a fool,» he continued. «It was wonderful. Well, I wired New York——»
«And so,» she interrupted again, «they wired that you ought to take a chance?»
«Ought to!» he exclaimed, still leaning back. «That I had to. There was no time to lose——»
«Not a minute?»
«Not a minute.»
«Not even time for—» she paused.
«For what?»
«Look.»
He bent his head forward suddenly, and she drew herself to him in the same moment, her lips half open like a flower.
«Yes,» he whispered into her lips. «There’s all the time in the world….»
All the time in the world—his life and hers. But for an instant as he kissed her he knew that though he search through eternity he could never recapture those lost April hours. He might press her close now till the muscles knotted on his arms—she was something desirable and rare that he had fought for and made his own—but never again an intangible whisper in the dusk, or on the breeze of night….
Well, let it pass, he thought; April is over, April is over. There are all kinds of love in the world, but never the same love twice.
