He stood like a rock under her caress
“I’m not so sure I want to remember you.”
“I hope you don’t. It’s the things you don’t want to remember that you never can get out of your head.”
“Good-by,” he said again.
“Haven’t you one nice thing to say to me before you go?”
“Not one.”
“Wouldn’t you at least admit that I had enlarged your point of view?”
“Aren’t you going to shake hands with me?” he said.
She shook her head, and began to approach him. He felt afterward as if he had known exactly what she meant to do, and yet he seemed to lack all power to prevent her—or perhaps it was will that was lacking. She came up to him, very deliberately put her arms about his neck, and, almost as tall as he, laid her head on his shoulder; and then murmured under his chin: “But you must never, never come back.”