"Denzil—if you knew everything, you could not possibly leave me—you don't know what has happened—But you must, you will have to since—soon—"
He bowed his head and placed her two hands over his face with a despairing movement.
"Hush—I implore you—say nothing. I do know, but I love you—I must go."
At that she gave a glad cry and drew him close to her.
"You shall not now! I do not care for conventions any more, or for laws, or for anything! I am a savage—you are mine! John must know that you are mine! The family is all that matters to him, I am only an instrument, a medium for its continuance—but Denzil, you and I are young and loving and living. It is you I desire, and now I know that I belong to you. You are the man and I am the woman—and the child will be our child!"
Her spirit had arisen at last and broken all chains. She was transfigured, transformed, translated. No one knowing the gentle Amaryllis could have recognised her in this fierce, primitive creature claiming her mate!
Furious, answering passion surged through Denzil; it was the supreme moment when all artificial restrictions of civilisation were swept away. Nature had come to her own. All her forces were working for these two of her children brought near by a turn of fate. He strained her in his arms wildly—he kissed her lips, and ears, and eyes.
"Mine, mine," he cried, and then "Sweetheart!"
And for some seconds which seemed an eternity of bliss they forgot all but the joy of love.
But presently reality fell upon Denzil and he almost groaned.