"I won't!" said Daphne.
"I tell you I can't live without you," urged the man. "I won't live without you! Your father's quite right, I haven't got a 163 whole lot of time, but think how we'd pack it! Hawaii, Japan, the moon if you'd crave it! 'Eat, drink and be merry'—and to- morrow you still live! It's only I that have got to die! You shall love me, I say! You shall! Merciful God! Am I to live like a spoiled child all my days and be robbed at this last of the only real thing I ever wanted?"
"My—my father——" struggled Daphne. It was a struggle of soul as well as body.
"Your father is a real man," conceded the vibrant, compelling voice, "but he's only a real man, and with a real man's needs. There's bound to be another woman sometime. There's another woman even now you say? What place then is left for you? But come with me, I say, and as long as there's breath left in my body you shall be first, last and only! And after that——" he shivered ever so slightly, "Mrs. Sheridan Kaire won't have to worry, I guess, overmuch about anything. Oh, I've been a devil, I know! I don't deny it! I——"
"You—you mean you've kissed other women?" cried Daphne, "Like— this?"
"Yes—several—other—women," winced the insatiate lips, "but 164 not like this! Or this! Or this!"
"I won't give you my lips," said Daphne.
"You little spit-fire!" exulted the man. "You—you young panther! You blessed little pal! You and I together—and the world well lost!"
With a catch of his breath that was almost a sob he tilted her chin towards the light and stared deep into her young unfathomable eyes. His own eyes were hot with tears, and the scar across his cheek twitched oddly at the dimple.
"Wanted—to—be as wild as an aeroplane, did you?" he questioned with extraordinary gentleness. "And they crucified you for a wanton in the Halls of Learning! Also in the Sunday supplement next to the Comic Section!" At the answering shiver of her body something keener than tears glinted suddenly in his eyes. But his voice never lifted from its gentleness. "And they always will crucify you, little girl," he said, "in this fuddy-duddy boarding school world you've been living in! As long as you live, little girl, some prude will be mincing forward from time 165 to time to see if the nails are holding the cross itself still in the full glare. But the bunch I run with, little girl, would rate you as a saint! Call it a wild bunch if you want to, but wouldn't you rather be laughed at for a saint than spat at for a devil?"