Her whole body was pressed against his. He tried to push her away with his hand. For a moment he thought that he saw Tony watching him and then turning away, sadly, scornfully. And then it swept over him like a wave. He crushed her in his arms; for some minutes the world had stopped. Then again he let her go.
“Ah!” she said, smiling and touching her dress with her fingers. “You are dreadfully strong. I did not know how strong. But I like it. And now Thursday night will be ours; glorious, wonderful, never to be forgotten. I must go. They’ll be wondering. You’d better not come back with me. Good-night, darling!” She bent down, kissed him and disappeared.
But he sat there, his hands gripping his knees.
What sort of scum was he? He, a man?
This then was the fine new thing that Tony and Punch had shown him. This the kind of world! This the great experience. Life!
No. With all his soul he knew that it was not; with all his soul he knew that the devil and all his angels were pressing about his path—laughing, laughing.
And the moon rose behind the trees and the stars danced between the branches.
CHAPTER XVII
MORNING AND AFTERNOON OF THE TWENTY-SEVENTH—TONY,