“I will!” she sobbed. “I will! I will! I will!”
“No, no!” I insisted, and I found myself seizing her shoulders, not knowing if I mightn’t shake her smartly, so drawn-out had the woman got me; and still I kept shouting my senseless “No, no!” at which the nipper was now yelling.
She struggled her best as I clutched her, but I seemed to have the strength of a dozen men; the woman was nothing in my grasp, and my arms were taking their blind rage out on her.
Secure I held her, and presently she no longer struggled, and I was curiously no longer angry, but found myself soothing her in many strange ways. I mean to say, the passage between us had fallen to be of the very shockingly most sentimental character.
“You are so masterful!” she panted.
“I’ll have my own way,” I threatened; “I’ve told you often enough.”
“Oh, you’re so domineering!” she murmured. I dare say I am a bit that way.
“I’ll show you who’s to be master!”
“But I never dreamed you meant this,” she answered. True, I had most brutally taken her by surprise. I could easily see how, expecting nothing of the faintest sort, she had been rudely shocked.
“I meant it all along,” I said firmly, “from the very first moment.” And now again she spoke in almost awed tones of my “deepness.” I have never believed in that excessive intuition which is so widely boasted for woman.