“It was plucky of you to come alone . . . at this time of the day.”
“There was moonlight . . .”
“Ah, yes . . . the new moon. You are a brave girl, Miss Eva. Why then are you frightened now?”
“I’m not frightened,” she cried. “What made you think so?”
And of course she was horribly frightened. She couldn’t quite say why. On other occasions the dread or distaste, or whatever the feeling might be, which the thought of him inspired had always vanished in his bodily presence. This time she felt it more acutely than ever, and since it was now reinforced by his physical imminence, it seemed harder to bear. It came to her suddenly that if he were once assured that she was really frightened of him it would be all up with her. That was why she lied so eagerly.
He stood leisurely surveying her, with the same smile on his flushed face. He took no notice of her denial. He was big and dark and smiling; and all the time she was appallingly conscious of the contrast of her own physical weakness, wondering how, if anything dreadful should happen, she might escape. It was as bad as that. He gave her an exaggerated bow.
“Very good, then. We will agree that you are not frightened. In that case there is really no reason why you shouldn’t sit down and give me the pleasure, for a little, of your society. I beg you to be seated.”
She thought: “If I sit down I sha’n’t have a ghost of a chance; I shall feel he’s right on the top of me. If I don’t sit down he’ll know just how frightened I am.” As a compromise she placed herself on the arm of the long sofa. At this elevation she didn’t feel quite so helpless. She made a determined effort to escape.
She began: “My brother . . .”
“Ah, yes . . . your brother . . .” He began to prowl up and down the room. “Your brother. . . . You need not worry yourself too much about him, Miss Eva. It is unkind of you to be so sparing of your devotion. Your brother is lonely? Well, there are other people as lonely as your brother. Do you remember my saying that my eyes hadn’t rested on a white woman for more than five years? There are varieties of loneliness. Spiritual loneliness . . .”