"For God's sake, what is it?" she heard him ask in a voice quite husky from anxiety. "Have I wounded you so deeply? Is what I have said so bad? I will retract everything; only forgive me--you must forgive me!"
When he thus asked her forgiveness for all the infinite joy he had given her, her passion leapt up and set her on fire. The pose of haughty dignity--aye, and her shame too--she cast to the winds; and with a groan of abandonment she flung her arms round his neck, pressed herself against him, and clung to his mouth with her lips and teeth.
Under the onslaught of this wild and impure embrace he recoiled, and in thrusting her from him he dug his fingers deeply into the upper part of her arm. How it hurt, but how she liked it!
"At last! at last!" her soul cried. Now he knew who and what she was, and how much she had to give him.
When she gained command of herself again, she saw him leaning against the same tree from which she had sought support a moment before. His hat had fallen off, his eyes were closed. He was as pale and inanimate as death.
For a moment all was still save for the clanging bells of the electric trams from the near distance.
"Dearest, beloved," she whispered, stooping and leaning against his knees. "Wake up, darling; wake up and come."
He opened his eyes and stared at her as if his wits were wandering.
"Come, come!" she cried joyously. "Come away from here. Come home. I don't want to wander about any more here in the dark among the trees, or in the restaurants and streets. I want to go home. With you, with you!"
He did not answer. He seemed quite distracted. A dull sense of guilt awoke in her, to be quickly drowned in exultation.