“Soon. Now. In a fortnight.”
“Very well,” said he; “then let me love you now.”
But she drew away from him, pushing him back with her white arms.
“Your beautiful teeth—how white they are!” he said; “and I can almost see your white breasts through your....”
“Hush!” she warned, as she heard footsteps on the pathway leading to the cottage. “It is Marania. I will go to him and tell him I love him and will marry him.”
Sobraji lingered a minute after she had gone, his body a-tremble with desire. Then, in the dark, he parted the bushes with his hands and went his own way.
Marania met Pabasca with a smile that could be seen even in the darkness. He took her hand in his for a moment and patted it gently.
“Though I cannot see you,” he said, “I know you are as beautiful as the night itself.”
He led her down the pathway on to the ill-made road. Embarrassed, she remained silent.
“Listen!” he said; “that’s the nightingale I heard last night—I’m sure it is—the one I wrote to you about.... Did you like my letter?”