“Well, you know, you are, rather. You don’t want to be hasty, my dear young lady!”
She sighed.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this; but I’m so unhappy!”
He felt very sympathetic, but could think of nothing to say.
“I’m going to take off this ring now, while I’m with you,” Esther went on. “I want to forget all about Will for a while.” She slipped her warm little hand into his. “Oh, Tommy!” she said coaxingly. “Be nice, won’t you?”
The light of the moon shone clearly on her pretty upturned face, her white throat. He stared and stared at her. She leaned back, more and more, until her head was resting on his breast and her smooth hair brushed his lips.
The first wave of some immense and terrible emotion, something he had never before experienced, came rushing over him. He clenched his hands, struggling against a fierce desire to push her away.
“What are you doing to me?” he wanted to shout. “What’s happening to me? Go away! Get out!”
But she did not stir. She rested against him, contented as a kitten, soft, gentle, and still. Little by little his mood changed, his panic was allayed, and he bent over and kissed her. Then he wanted never to let her go again. He kissed her violently, time after time. He couldn’t stop.
A sort of madness possessed him. A terror greater than ever assailed him—a terror of himself. He knew he wasn’t to be trusted. He put her aside brusquely and got up.