Nan was silent again for a little, but she still held fast to his hand.
"Were you," she asked hesitatingly at length, "were you—making love to me—that night?"
"After my own savage fashion," he said.
"Well," she said, a slight quiver in her voice, "it didn't hurt me, Piet."
Piet was silent.
"I mean," she said, gathering courage, "if—if I had known that it meant just that, I—well, I shouldn't have minded so much."
Still Piet was silent. His hand shaded his eyes, but she knew that he was watching her.
"Do you understand?" she asked him doubtfully.
"No," he said.
"Don't you—don't you know what I want you to do?" she said, rather Breathlessly.