“I’m cold,” she whispered mournfully. “I’m trying to feel what I ought to be feeling, but I can’t. I’m disappointed. God left something out when He made me. If only you weren’t so fine, but—— My dear, you’re better than any man I ever met. I couldn’t be good the way you are, and I’m ashamed to be worse. Sometimes I’m almost bitter against you for your goodness. My beautiful mother.—I’m all she has. And there’s your family. I haven’t any. I’ve missed so much. Surely you under-stand?”
“Darling, I want to make it all up to you. I want to give you everything.”
“And I—I can give you nothing.” She closed her eyes tiredly. “I’m so young—so young. I don’t think I want to be married. So much may happen. If we married, everything would be ended; there’d be nothing to dream about. We’d know everything.” Her face moved against his caressingly. “But it is so sweet to be loved.”
He laughed softly. “You will marry me, Princess. You will. One day you’ll want to know everything. I’ll wait till you’re ready.”
She let him draw her to him. Her eyelids drooped. She lay in his arms pulseless. The silkiness of her hair trembled against his forehead.
“Give me your lips.” His voice was thirsty.
She did not stir.
“Just this once.”
She rested her hands on his shoulders. The moist sweet mouth shuddered as he pressed it. He clung to it; an eternity was in the moment. He was drinking her soul from the chalice of her body. Gently she pushed him from her. It was over—this ecstasy to which all his life had been a preface.
She crumpled forward, her knees drawn up, burying her face in her hands.