His shaken voice dropped into a low, pleading tone.
“You’ll not believe it, Barbara. But I—didn’t know what it was like to love anyone. Why should I? I married for money—I’m not ashamed to tell you. But Barbara! Barbara!”
The words rang out in a stifled cry, as he read the fear—the aversion in hers.
She writhed out of his grasp, her breath coming and going in little gasps.
“Stop!” she cried. “I—can’t listen!”
She clutched at the fence-rail as if she feared his violence.
He folded his arms quietly, his face grown suddenly rigid.
“Something has happened since the other day,” he said. “What is it?”
She was silent.
He took two long steps and stood over her, big, powerful, threatening.