Her resentment melted. She threw him a fleeting smile. "No—no! But how could you imagine I could tell anyone? You didn't seriously—you couldn't!"
"There isn't much to tell, is there?" he said, his fingers closing gently over the soft roundness of her arm. "And you don't like that plan of mine?"
"I didn't say I didn't like it," said Dinah, her eyes lowered.
"But—but—I can't do it, that's all. I'm going now. Good-bye!"
She turned to go, but his fingers still held. He drew a step nearer.
"Daphne, remember—you are not to run away!"
A transient dimple showed at the corner of Dinah's mouth. "You must let me go then," she said.
"And if I do—how will you reward me?" His voice was very deep; the tones of it sent a sharp quiver through her. She felt unspeakably small and helpless.
She made a little gesture of appeal. "Please—please let me go! You know you are much stronger than I am."
He drew nearer, his face bent so low that his lips touched her shoulder as she stood turned from him. "You don't know your strength yet," he said. "But you soon will. Are you going away from me like this? Don't you think you're rather hard on me?"
It was a point of view that had not occurred to Dinah. Her warm heart had a sudden twinge of self-reproach. She turned swiftly to him.