She bent her head, not looking at him. "Poor Tommy was," she said.
He smiled tolerantly. "Tommy's such a youngster."
She smiled also. "Exactly one year younger than I am."
He drew her nearer, his eyes devouring her. "You, Stella!" he said. "You are as ageless as the stars."
She laughed faintly, not yielding herself to the closer pressure though not actually resisting it. "That is merely a form of telling me that I am much older than I seem," she said. "And you are quite right. I am."
His arm compelled her. "You are you," he said. "And you are so divinely young and beautiful that there is no measuring you by ordinary standards. They all know it. That is why you weren't received into the community with open arms. You are utterly above and beyond them all."
She flinched slightly at the allusion. "I hope I am not so extraordinary as all that," she said.
His arm became insistent. "You are unique," he said. "You are superb."
There was passion barely suppressed in his hold and a sudden swift shiver went through her. "Oh, Ralph," she said, "don't—- don't worship me too much!"
Her voice quivered in its appeal, but somehow its pathos passed him by. He saw only her beauty, and it thrilled every pulse in his body. Fiercely almost, he strained her to him. And he did not so much as notice that her lips trembled too piteously to return his kiss, or that her submission to his embrace was eloquent of mute endurance rather than glad surrender. He stood as a conqueror on the threshold of a newly acquired kingdom and exulted over the splendour of its treasures because it was all his own.