She began to run, but stopped under a lamp just before No. 15 was in sight.
He had kept pace with her high-heeled, uneven steps easily, and stopped beside her.
“Say good-night to me properly, then.”
“How, properly? Good-night, Mr. Roberts, and thank you ever so much. Oh, and bonne voyage to-morrow, in case I don’t see you. Will that do?”
“No, it won’t. I want a kiss.”
“You don’t want much, do you?” she began half-heartedly, and looking up and down the street as she spoke.
It was empty but for themselves.
Roberts caught hold of her and kissed her with violence. Unresisting, Elsie put back her head and closed her eyes.
“Kiss me—you shall kiss me,” he gasped.
At the sense of constriction that came upon her with the tightened grasp of his arms, Elsie gave a fluttering, strangled scream and began to struggle.