"Do they?" he demanded. "Those chaps you dance and flirt with—?"
Joan made him the present of a very special smile. "Perhaps that was to make other people—jealous."
"You darling!" he said under his breath; but still he did not touch her.
"'Love among the Ruins' really isn't very beautiful," he said after a moment, "or very natural, either—as my sister-in-law was very good to point out to me only this morning!"
Joan flushed. So Mrs. Desmond was taking not only a passive but an active interest in her affairs!
"Your sister-in-law is needlessly solicitous. I'm not a child like Betty. I know exactly what I am doing."
He leaned toward her. "Do you? Do you, I wonder? Joan! Look at me! Do you know what you are doing—to me?"
The darkness left only the white outline of their faces visible to each other. He struck a match, in order to see her better.
For a moment she tried to meet his eyes. They frightened her even while they drew her. The blood began to sing in her ears, as it had when he touched her hand. She wanted him to take her in his arms, to hold her—and at the same time she wanted to run away and hide. Their long gaze seemed to let down some barrier within her, to loosen curious impulses.... Why did he not take her, and have done with it?
"No," he muttered, as if she had spoken, "Come!"