It was merely a reaction, of course, quite inevitable after the strain of anxiety and suspense under which she had laboured for days: but he was not aware of that. All he knew was that Judith was again the person he had known and loved so long ago. Back upon him rushed the passion which had been quiescent before her detached indifference. As she stood before him, her eyes sparkling, her teeth gleaming, in smiles the like of which he had not seen, it seemed, since they were children together, all the hopes and dreams, so long dormant, sprang to his lips.
"Ah, Judith, girl!" he cried, as he jumped to his feet and faced her. "It's got to come out again. I can't help it—I don't want to help it. I..."
A look of something akin to terror flashed into Judith's eyes. "Don't, Arnold—please—you mustn't..." She drew away, almost as if she feared him. The movement, slight though it was, hurt him infinitely.
"I suppose it's foolish," he said wistfully. "You made that pretty clear once. But I can't help thinking that things are different now. I'm not better than I was then—but I know myself better. I was a prig—full of pride—conceited. At least I'm not that any more. I'm only..." Suddenly he stopped and eyed her narrowly.
"Tell me, Judith," he demanded, "is it because—there's someone else?"
He was not sure whether she had shaken her head or not. It had become very dark. He waited a moment, and when she said nothing, he moved a step nearer again. They were almost touching each other, and the faint fragrance of her hair in his nostrils, the soft roundness of her shoulders, overwhelmed him. He trembled violently, and his voice shook.
"Judith..." The words came low but strongly. "I've—I love you. Do you hear—I love you. I want you—can't you see it? I've loved you ever since I knew what the word meant. I love you more now than I ever did before. I've forced myself to wait, to hope, to be patient. I thought that perhaps ... Judith, my dearest, I can't do that any longer. I can't trust myself near you any more. The strain of appearing calm and contented when I'm here leaves me wretched afterward. I've tried hard to feel it as well as seem it. But it's no use. I can't. Even my work's no help. You're between me and it all the time. I hoped it would bring me nearer to you. But something—someone—it simply can't go on. I can't stand it. Either you marry me—or we've got to separate for good. I..."
"Arnold—what nonsense!" cried Judith. "Why..." As she lifted her eyes and felt his hot gaze upon her, she caught her breath and was silent. Neither spoke for what seemed hours, the only sound the ticking of the great clock in the hall. Then, with a suddenness that stunned, Imrie's strong arms were around her.
"I guess you need to be taken, my girl!" The words seemed driven through his teeth. "I've been too ... polite. The last time I kissed you I was ashamed of myself. I think if I'd kissed you twice I'd have you now. But it's never too late..."
Imrie had a powerful frame. She was impotent to prevent the eager kisses he showered upon her.