She trembled from head to foot.
“Then why do you turn from me?”
She wept: “O Richard, take me home! take me home!”
“Look at me, Lucy!”
Her head shrank timidly round.
“Keep your eyes on me, darling! Now speak!”
But she could not look and speak too. The lover knew his mastery when he had her eyes.
“You wish me to take you home?”
She faltered: “O Richard? it is not too late.”
“You regret what you have done for me?”