She was sorry she had mentioned Logan. Mendel was a different creature at once. Their glamourous happiness was gone. Logan seemed to have stalked in between them and the purity of their delight withered away.
He felt it as strongly as she, but thought she was deliberately escaping from him, that she was fickle and could not stay out the day’s happiness. Women, he knew, were like that. They gave out just as the best was still to come.
It was dusk and they were in a lonely glade. He pounced on her and drew her to him:—
“I want you to kiss me.”
“No—no!”
“Yes—yes—yes! I say you shall. I will not have you let it all slip away.”
“Don’t! Don’t!” she said, in a passion of resentment. He was spoiling it all. How could he be so crude and insensible after this matchless day?
At last he was convinced of her anger.
“I don’t understand you,” he said. “Don’t you want anything like that?”