She slipped from his arms and put the couch between them. “I sent for you to tell you that—that I’m that, though I’ve tried, I can’t live without you.”
He leant out to touch her. She avoided him. “First tell me that you love me.”
“I do.”
Her gray eyes brimmed over. “You don’t. You’re lying. I’ve never lied to you—with all my faults I’ve never done that.”
His arms fell to his side. When confronted by her truth his passion went from him. “But I shall. I shall love you, Desire. It’ll all come back.”
She shook her head. “It might never. And without it—— You told me that I’d killed something. I believe I have.”
“If you would only let me kiss you,” he pleaded.
She darted across the room and flinging wide the door, waited for him in the passage.
She took his hands in hers. They gazed at each other inarticulately.
“I can’t tell you—can’t tell you,” he panted. “All the time I may be loving you.”