John thrust it away.
"I must get through to-night," he thought, "but I cannot if this hideous pain of knowledge of what I must renounce conquers me—I must be strong."
He went on stroking her hair; it made her thrill and she turned and bit one of his fingers playfully with a wicked little laugh.
"I wish I knew what I am feeling, John," she whispered, and her eyes were aflame, "I wish I knew—"
"I must teach you!" and with sudden fierceness he bent down and kissed her lips.
Then he told her to go to bed.
"You must be tired, Amaryllis, after your journey. Go like a good child."
She pouted. She was all vibrating with some totally new and overmastering emotion. She wanted to stay and be made love to. She wanted—she knew not what, only everything in her was thrilling with passionate warmth.
"Must I? It is only ten."
"I have a frightful lot of business things to write tonight, Amaryllis. Go now and sleep, and I will come and wake you about twelve!" He looked lover-like. She sighed.