"Laurie? Please? Don't be angry with me for wanting to see Mamma!"
He was hurt without knowing how she hurt him.
"Please kiss me, Laurie, dear! Don't be angry! I can't bear to have you angry with me!" Her eyes, strangely defenseless, opened softly to his. Their softness enveloped him and drew him down against the harsh little sparks of reserve that burnt in their depths.
"Kiss you?" he said. He took her fingers in his and kissed them. His lips were grudging. He still smiled. "Don't accuse me of being angry with you, Winnie. I want you to have your mother back."
"But I want you, too. Kiss me! Really! Not like that."
He leaned forward and his lips brushed hers. But she would not let him go. She was so slight, pulling him down, that he could not resist her. She pressed her mouth hard against his face.
"Don't be angry with me."
"I'm not angry—wasn't angry." Each word was a little shake to loosen himself from her.
"You won't talk to Papa that way again?"
"I won't give myself the opportunity. I won't see him again."