He looked at her askance.
His glance brought her back to reality. She turned and left him; she walked rapidly towards the lake, coming out on the beach beyond Eagle Point.
He followed her, and, as he came up, his eyes took possession of and held hers, as they had done before; then, after a moment, he put his arm round her, drew her to him, and bent his face to hers.
She tried to spring from him. But he still held her. “What shall I say to excuse myself, Eve?”
The tones of his voice were very sweet. But he was smiling a little too. She saw it; she broke from his grasp.
“You look as though you could kill me!” he said.
(And she did look so.)
“Forgive me,” he went on; “tell me you don’t mind.”
“I should have thought—that what I confessed to you—you know, that day—
But there were no subtleties in Paul. “Why, that was the very reason,” he answered. “What did you tell me for, if you didn’t want me to think of it?” Then he took a lighter tone. “Come, forget it. It was nothing.—What’s one kiss?”