He had grown quite pallid, as he did when deeply moved, and his hands clenched and unclenched nervously. His face, his expression, had changed. He was struggling his utmost to look, and to be, tender and respectful; but his heart was beating with an emotion neither tender nor respectful. He wiped his damp forehead, and came a step nearer, always smiling, but with eyes strangely brilliant and fixed.
"No!" said Angelica sharply. She knew how he felt—she knew too well how he felt. It sickened and shamed her.
"My darling girl!" said Eddie. "My Angelica!"
"Don’t!" she said. "Don’t say that! I’m not!"
"But you will be, very soon! I——”
"We ought to go, Eddie. It’s late!"
"Then kiss me, just once!"
She shook her head with a ghastly affectation of coquetry.
"No," she said. "You’ll have to wait!"
"Just as you like, Angelica," said the poor fellow. "You know, don’t you, dear girl, that my chief wish in life is to make you happy? I wouldn’t for——”