But her hand still held his arm. "No; wait!" she said. "You can't go like this. Piers, what is the matter with you? Tell me!"
He hesitated. She saw that his self-control was tottering. Abruptly at length he spoke. "I can't. I'm not master of myself. I—I—" He broke off short and became silent.
"I knew you weren't," she said, and then, acting upon an impulse which she knew instinctively that she would never regret, she gave him her other hand also. "Let us forget all this!" she said.
It was generously spoken, so generously that it could not fail to take effect. He looked at her in momentary surprise, began to speak, stopped, and with a choked, unintelligible utterance took her two hands with the utmost reverence into his own, and bowed his forehead upon them. The utter abandonment of the action revealed to her in that moment how completely he had made her the dominating influence of his life.
"Shall we sit down and talk?" she said gently.
She could not be other than gentle with him. The appeal of his weakness was greater than any display of strength. She could not but respond to it.
He set her free and dropped down heavily upon a rock, leaning his head in his hands.
She waited a few moments beside him; then, as he remained silent, she bent towards him.
"Piers, what is it?"
With a sharp movement he straightened himself, and turned his face to the sea.