“Oh—never! I hope I shall never feel that way again. Papa used to encourage me when I got on my high horse, and I always let myself go. But I became ashamed of myself for being so undignified, some years ago. I can’t think why I—yes I can, of course, and you know why just as well as I do.”
“Give me your hand.”
She gave it to him, and he bent over her. She had no thought of failure, but she shrank away.
“Wait,” she said.
“For what? You have dismissed Van Rhuys, and we have only two weeks.”
“Is it necessary that I should kiss you?”
“Do you think it would be fair to me if you did not? Do you expect me to wander all day in that forest and sit up all night with you without kissing you? What do you think I am made of? I might with a woman who was intellectual and nothing more, but not with you.”
She slipped away from him and stood up, drawing her hands over her eyes.
“I cannot understand myself,” she said. “I have let eight men kiss me and thought little about it, but I cannot kiss you whom I would rather than any man I have ever known. Won’t you go away now?”
He got up at once.