“I’ve only got a minute,” he said, pausing in front of her. “The taxi is waiting. Come inside, Pamela. We can’t part here.”
She was seated outside the windows of her room, and she rose as he spoke and entered the room without answering him. He followed her quickly.
“I’ve been seeing to things,” he said. “I’ll write you. There isn’t time to go into it now. But it will be all right. Don’t bother your head about anything until you hear from me.” He held her by the shoulders and looked steadily into her eyes. “It won’t be long before I’m back. But this is our real parting. This is the last time I shall hold you so,—the last time I shall kiss your lips... my dear!”
She drew near to him. Her face as she lifted it to his was transfigured. Never had he seen it so beautiful, so gravely tender. A yearning light of love lit her eyes, made them melting and wondrously soft. For a moment they remained looking at one another. Then he gathered her close in his arms, crushed her to him, and kissed her mouth again and again.
“We’re parting,” he muttered, drawing back his head, and staring at her without releasing her. “I don’t feel I can go somehow. I feel I’m a fool to go. Why don’t I stay and fight it out with you, Pamela? You little woman, the strength that is in you! You don’t answer. Your eyes just tell me I must go. Well, I am taking part of you away with me—and leaving the best of myself with you... We’ll go on... We’ll get used to it in time, I daresay. But it hurts, Pamela.”
“Yes.” She touched his cheek softly with her hand. “These last few days,” she said, “they’re something to remember...”
“Something,” he said, “yes.”
“We’ve been very close,” she whispered. “Nothing—no bodily separation can alter that. The memory of your love will remain with me always. I’m glad we’ve talked of love, dear,—that we haven’t tried to hide things from each other.”
“Oh! we’ve talked,” he said. “But talking...”
He broke off, and caught her to him again. Then he held her a little way off, and scrutinised her long and earnestly.