"Well, pleasing you as much as I want to, I mean." Jeremy in his turn smiled for a moment; but he was in deadly earnest again as he stepped up to her and caught hold of her hands. "Now's the time," he said. "You've got to say yes or no."
"You haven't asked me anything yet," she murmured, laughing, her eyes away from him and her hands in his.
"Yes, I have, dozens of times—dozens and dozens. And I'm not going to ask it again—not in words, anyhow. You know the question."
"It's horribly unfair to—to do this to-day—to-day, when I'm——"
"Not a bit. To-day's the very day for it, and that's why you must answer to-day." A deeper note came into his words, deeper than he had commanded when he made love to Dora Hutting on these same downs not so very long ago. "I make love to you to-day because love's in your heart to-day. You're wanting to love; it's round about us, Eva."
For an instant she saw in him a likeness she had never noticed before—a likeness to Sibylla: Sibylla's ardent all-demanding temper seemed to speak in his words.
"Yes, this is the day—our day. And this day shall be the beginning or the end. You know the question. What's the answer, Eva?"
He let go of her hands, and drew back two or three paces. He left her free; if she came to him, it must be of her own motion.
"How very peremptory you are!" she protested.
Her cheeks were red now, and the look of sorrow had gone out of her eyes. Her breath came quick, and when she looked at the sea the waves seemed to dance to the liveliest music. At sea and land she looked, at the sky and at the wintry sun; her glance touched everywhere save where Jeremy stood.