“Don’t wait,” she whispered.
“But I shall wait always—always. I shall never love any one but you.”
“They all say that.”
A key grated in the latch. She didn’t snatch away her hand the way she would have done formerly. She sat motionless, courting discovery. They heard Vashti’s voice, bidding some man good-night. The door shut. Glancing in on them in passing, she pretended to be unaware of what was happening. “I’m going straight to bed. You don’t mind if I don’t stay to talk with you? I’m tired.”
The quiet settled down. Desire crept closer. They had been sitting facing. “I guess you’re badly hurt. You thought that all girls wanted to get married, and to have little babies and a kind man to take care of them.” When he tried to answer her, she placed her hand upon his mouth. He held it there with his own, as though it had been a flower.
“I’m glad we got mad,” she whispered; “it’s made us real. It’s nice to be real sometimes. But I don’t know what to say to you—what to do to you. I haven’t played fair. At first I thought you were like all the rest. I know I’m responsible.”
She snuggled up to him like a weary child. “I’m at the cross-roads.—Don’t kiss me—you put me out when you do that. Just put your arms about me so that I feel safe. I—I want to tell you.”
“Then tell me, Princess.”
“I’m two persons. There’s the me that I am now, and the other me that’s horrid.”
“I love them both.”