He did not relax his almost terrible grip of her, as he too, listened intently.
Lucy was right; he could hear the light, stuffless sound of footsteps sinking into the dead leaves which still, on this spring night, lay thickly spread on the path.
“Only happy lovers like you and me,” he whispered huskily. “They’re not troubling about us—why trouble about them?”
But the girl was frightened. “For God’s sake, go away, Mr. Cheale!” she pleaded in a terrified whisper.
“One kiss more, Lucy. Only one kiss more——”
But she lay inertly in his arms, all her senses absorbed in listening. How different from only fifty seconds ago!
“Lucy,” he whispered, “Lucy? We can’t part like this, to-night—the first time my goddess has yielded me her lips.”
Though full of nervous terror, she was moved by the real feeling in his voice.
“I’ll go and see who it is,” she muttered in his ear. “You stop where you are.”
“Promise to come back!”