"Owen, you must not kiss me."
Again he might choose between sailing the Medusa in search of adventure, or crossing the Channel in the mail packet in search of art.
"Will you come away with me?" he said. His heart sank, and he thought of the Rubicon.
"You don't mean this very instant? I could not go away without seeing father."
"Why not? You don't intend to tell him you are going away with me?"
"No; it is not the sort of thing one generally tells one's father, but—I cannot go away with you now—"
"When will you come?"
"Owen, don't press me for an answer. I don't know."
"The way of escape is still open to me," he thought; but he could not resist the temptation that this girl's face and voice presented to his imagination.