"I can," she said, her voice held calm.
"I—we can't let you go."
"Why? Zoe—my big job's done."
"Lilly, I tell you we need you here more than ever. My brother arrives this morning from Seattle. We've completed the cross-country chain. I'm free now to branch out. I'm counting on you. I'm full of an idea for that community opera scheme and I'm ready to do the play from the Russian on your say-so. Lilly—you cannot go now—"
"I can—must," she said, scraping back her chair. "You must work out your dreams—alone—with some one else. I—must—go." And then withdrawing from what she saw: "No! No! Bruce! No! No!"
But just the same they were in each other's arms with the irresistibility of tide for moon and moon for tide. Press him back with her palms as she would when his lips found hers, it was as if something etheric had flowed into her brain. She wanted to resist him and instead her hands met in a clasp about his neck. "No, no." And yet as he kissed her eyelids and down against the satinness of her hair, it seemed to her that toward this moment all the poor blind years had been directed.
"Lilly—darling."
She tried to shake off her enchantment.
"You hurt!"
"I want to."