Ah, they were striking at each other's naked breasts, those two. With naked weapons. And neither of them shirked it. Not the girl, who sent back as good as she got—not Bibi-Ri, who took even that last terrible thrust.
"Such things do not happen." You would have thought he was putting a form of statement. "All else aside—" he said, "all else aside, this does not happen."
"What can you do or say to prevent?" she asked, leading him by so much.
"Anything you want of me."
"I want nothing: it would only be false."
"Anything you want me to say."
"I want to hear nothing: it would only be lies."
"Zelie," he offered, "will you marry me?"
That must have been the test, you know. In the covert, unproclaimed struggle which had brought them both to this pass, that must have been the gauge. Whatever thrill of satisfied passionate resentment she could have wished must have been hers there and then.
"Will you wed with me, Zelie?"