"Here—" he reached for the little lace-edged handkerchief that lay beside her long gloves and her purse, on the table.
She took it mechanically.
"Please—oh, please let me go—I beg you." She managed it with difficulty between the convulsions that were rending her.
He put his lips down upon the soft hair.
"I won't—do you understand that? Stop talking nonsense."
He thought there would be no end to the sobs.
"Have it out, dear—there's plenty of time."
Once she seemed to have stopped the tears. He turned her face up to his own again, and softly kissed her wet eyes. Her full lips were parted before him, but he did not kiss them. The sobs came again.
"There—there!—it will soon be over."
At last she ceased to cry from sheer exhaustion, and when, with his hand under her chin, he forced up her head again, she looked at him a full minute and then closed her eyes.