“I lose you!” he repeated. “You mean I lose my attraction for you, or my hold over you, and then you—?”
He did not finish. She made the same grievous murmuring noise over him.
“It shall not be any more,” she said.
“All right,” he replied, “since you decide it.”
She clasped him round the chest and fondled him, distracted with pity.
“You mustn’t be bitter,” she murmured.
“Four days is enough,” he said. “In a fortnight I should be intolerable to you. I am not masterful.”
“It is not so, Siegmund,” she said sharply.
“I give way always,” he repeated. “And then—tonight!”
“Tonight, tonight!” she cried in wrath. “Tonight I have been a fool!”