“I’m not Alice, I tell you. Kiss me.”
In all their long engagement Alice had never asked him for a caress, and the request hurt him now as something unwomanly. Instead of complying, he dropped his hands and turned away. She laughed shrilly.
“Oh, you won’t kiss me? I thought it was polite to do what a lady asked! Well, if you won’t now, you will some time. You’ll want to when you know me better.”
She moved away, but he caught her by the arm.
“Stop!” he ordered her, with all the determination he could put into the word. “Wake up, Alice! Be done with this fooling!”
The bright face grew anxious and the pouting lips beseeching.
“Don’t send me away! I’ll be good! Don’t make her come back!”
“Alice,” he repeated, clasping her arm firmly, “wake up!”
“You hurt me!” she cried half whiningly. “You hurt me! I’ll go.”
The wild brightness faded from the eyes, a change too subtle to be defined seemed to come over the whole figure, the old tired expression spread like mist over the face, and the familiar Alice stood there, passing her hand over her eyes.