"Kingston," she said, "you are so cruel—and I am so lonely. Can't you see that I am miserable? Kiss me!"
Brooks sat petrified, utterly amazed at this self-yielding on the part of the last woman in this world whom he would ever have thought capable of anything of the sort.
"Kiss me—at once."
He touched her lips timorously. Then she sprang away from him, her cheeks aflame, her eyes on fire, her hair strangely ruffled. She pointed to the door.
"Please go—quickly."
He picked up his hat.
"But, Mary! I—"
"Please!"
She stamped her foot.
"But—"