“I’m going now,” she muttered, as he closed his hand over her.
“See how well you fit your place,” he said, as he drew her to her previous position, close upon him. “What do you want to leave it for?”
And gradually the intoxication invaded him again, the zest came back. After all, why should he not take her?
But she did not yield to him entirely.
“Are you a married man?” she asked at length.
“What if I am?” he said.
She did not answer.
“I don’t ask you whether you’re married or not,” he said.
“You know jolly well I’m not,” she answered hotly. Oh, if she could only break away from him, if only she need not yield to him.
At length her will became cold against him. She had escaped. But she hated him for her escape more than for her danger. Did he despise her so coldly? And she was in torture of adherence to him still.