"I don't want to hurt you, you dear big silly boy. I love you."
He brought her head down until he could feel her parted teeth lightly touching his neck. "Hurt me ... kill me...."
An icy shiver of rapture gripped him as the tiny teeth tightened; as if the fangs of the serpent of forbidden love tentatively touched him, gloating in their power ... saving him for further sacrifice.
"There.... Are you satisfied, Mr. Lover?"
Curbing the tumult in his blood, he drew up a chair and faced her. "I ... we mustn't let this happen again, Louise ma cherie. Kisses ... and all ... I once said—do you remember?—are only the preludes to the finale of love. I am married; it won't hurt me; but you're—you're not."
Her hand rested lightly on his. "You aren't the first man who has ... loved me. You needn't worry about ... me."
Uncertainly his eyes searched the liquid deeps of hers. "Not the first?..."
She flushed unconsciously, returning his level look. Her words came slowly. "Why, no, inquisitive Mr. Lover. There was another man ... we intended to marry.... I'm glad, anyhow." The last three sentences came in soft haste; such frankness embarrassed her. She covered it, changing the theme. "It isn't fair to Jane——"
"Life isn't fair to any of us." His compelling gaze was put on to hide the fleeting emotion of inner timidity. "Where shall we...."
"Lydia Hasson isn't nearly as ... careful as the Tollivers. They're away a lot...."