When occasion offered, in the more shadowed stretches of their course to the sea, Fowey attempted to kiss her. But she would have none of him then, fending him off by main strength and raillery; and she was pleased with the discovery that she was stronger than he. Yet another evidence of the inferiority of man!
At the beach, Fowey ordered a claret cup. Joan demanded an ice and drank sparingly; but when again in the motor-car, homeward-bound, she was abruptly smitten with amazement to find herself in Fowey's arms, submitting to his kisses if not returning them.
For a time she remained so and let him talk love to her.
It was pleasant, to be—wanted....
Arrived at the little flat, she had to prevent Fowey's following her in, again by main strength, slamming the door in his face.
Bolting the door, she turned to a mirror "to see what a fright she must have looked." But it seemed a radiant vision that smiled back at her.
She thought hazily of Hubert Fowey.
"That kid!" she murmured, not altogether in contempt, but almost compassionately.
It was a shame to tease him so....
Not until the next day, that dawned upon her consciousness amid the thunders of a splitting headache, did she appreciate how far the affair had gone.