"Oh! I can spare it, but I can't stand the pain much longer, and I can't bear having my head touched. Look, I'll hold the dog firmly on my lap and bend my head, it won't hurt quite as much then, only do be quick!"
She put both hands on the shivering dog, who seemed to have sensed that something had gone agley, and pressing him down upon her knees bent her head, and her hair fell in waves about the man's feet as he unclasped a pocket-knife.
What there was in the attitude, whether it was the humility of the bent head or the utter abandon of the waving hair about his knees, the man never knew, but he suddenly began to hack savagely and ruthlessly at the great strands until the dog was freed and flung far on to the sands.
Then he bent and took hold of Leonie, lifting her bodily from her seat into his arms, crushing her desperately against his breast.
Just for one moment he stared down with blazing eyes, the nostrils quivering slightly, and the lips drawn back enough to show the white even teeth, whilst the rough tweed of his coat marked her cheek, and the strength of his arms and hands bruised her body even through her clothes; then he frowned, pushed her hair almost roughly right off her face, and looked at her with the dawn of recognition in his eyes.
And for just as long Leonie lay quite still, her eyes half closed, her scarlet mouth opened slightly, enough to show the small white teeth.
And then, she was standing on her feet with her hands clenched in his against his breast.
"You!"
"And you!" she replied, striving gently to release her hands.
"Forgive me! For God's sake forgive me! I—I have no excuse!"