Almost unconscious of what I was doing I lifted her right hand from her lap, and held it in both mine. She made one feeble little effort to tug her hand away and then no more. In the heavens, a star slipped, and from the heavens fell, leaving a wake of golden glory. And it seemed after that sudden blazing as if the night was blacker than before.
I slid my left arm around her shoulders, and, unresisted, drew her a little toward me, until I could feel her heart beating strongly against mine.
Just then the latch of the house door turned with a strong oil click, the door swung open, and dark against the light illumination of the hall stood Lucy Fulton. As she stood looking and listening, the strong bell of the far-off courthouse clock began to strike. Long before the lights and last clanging concussion, Evelyn and I had withdrawn to the uttermost ends of our bench.
Then Lucy turned and went back into the house and shut the door after her.
Evelyn had risen.
"Good night," she said, but she did not hold out her hand.
"Good night," I said; "I've made you late. I'm sorry."
She started to speak, hesitated, and then said, very quietly, "Why did you make love to me just now?"
It seemed to me that the least I could do was to answer "Because I love you." But the words must have choked me, and with shame, I told her the truth.
"I made love to you," I said, "because I have only one life to live."