"Four! Why—haven't you?"
"Oh—well—because!"
"Five! What does 'because' mean, this time?"
"It means—just—because!"
"Six! Seven! Eight! Why have you avoided me lately?"
Hermione was silent, watching him with troubled eyes while he slowly pitched the pebbles into the pool, counting as they fell.
"Nine! Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Why do you keep me at arm's length?"
"I don't—I—I—you won't let me—" she said a little breathlessly, while one by one he let the pebbles fall into the pool, counting inexorably as they fell.
"Thirteen! Fourteen, fifteen—and that's the last!" As he spoke he turned toward her, and she, reading something of his purpose in his eyes, turned to flee, felt his long arms about her, felt herself swung up and up and so lay crushed and submissive in his fierce embrace as he turned and began to bear her across the garden. Then, being helpless, she began to plead with him.
"Ah, don't, don't—dear! Geoffrey! Put me down! Where are you taking me? If any one sees us—"