“You’re talking wildly!” said Joe.
She shook her head. “I never got so close to naming it before . . . the thing you don’t talk about . . .”
“Come here,” said Joe, half contemptuously.
She shook her head inattentively. “Let me be. . . .”
He stood up. “Come here!” he said, peremptorily.
She looked at him reluctantly—and lost herself. A deep blush overspread her pale skin; her face became irradiated with a confused and imploring smile. She went to him slowly; shamed and rapturous.
Joe had dropped back into the big chair. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pressed her down to her knees at his feet. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded.
She obeyed. He pressed his lips to hers.
“Now . . . now tell me if there is anything in life that matters beside this,” he said breathlessly.
“No! No! No!” she whispered passionately. “I want only you!”