They came to a great tree about the trunk of which had been built a circular seat. The glades on every side showed no disturbing approach.
'Let us sit here,' said Wilfrid. 'We have always talked with each other in the open air, haven't we?'
He drew her to him and kissed her face passionately. It was the satisfying of a hunger of years. With Beatrice his caresses had seldom been other than playful; from the first moment of re-meeting with Emily, he had longed to hold her to his heart.
'Can I hope to keep you now? You won't leave me again, Emily?'
'If I leave you, Wilfrid, it will be to die.'
Again he folded her in his arms, and kissed her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. She was as weak as a trembling flower.
'Emily, I shall be in dread through every moment that parts us. Will you consent to whatever I ask of you? Once before I would have taken you and made you my wife, and if you had yielded we should have escaped all this long misery. Will you now do what I wish?'
She looked at him questioningly.
'Will you marry me as soon as it can possibly be? On Monday I will do what is necessary, and we can be married on Wednesday. This time you will not refuse?'
'Wednesday?'