"Yes, I spoke to her about you. I told her the truth. I told her that she could never be happy with you, that you are not the sort to stay contented with such a wife. And I think she agreed with me. She is a very sensible girl. There are certain traits in your character, Rodrigo, that a girl like Mary could never reconcile herself to."
He returned fiercely, "That's rot! If there's anything about me that Mary could object to, it's long since passed. I'm through with my past forever. No woman in the world means a thing to me but Mary."
Her answer was to come close to him and say softly, "You have lost Mary forever, Rodrigo. In your heart you know it. And in your heart you know that what you have just said is nonsense. I dare you to test it. I dare you to hold me in your arms and repeat it. I dare you to kiss me—and then let me go!"
He caught her hand. "Elise, are you crazy!" But he did not relinquish her hand, until her arms had slipped slowly around his neck and her lips were very close to his.
"Why do we pretend any longer, you and I?" she murmured. "You are not like John or Mary. You are only chasing thin, white shadows when you try to fashion yourself after them." And with a swift movement of her head she had kissed him.
He cried, "No—no! You must go—please."
"I love you." And she clung to him.
Fascinated, harassed, he did not resist her any longer. He took her into his arms and buried her face in his kisses.
When at last he let her go, she still held him close and said almost in a whisper, "We will go to the Van Clair, Rodrigo, and dine high up on the roof, near the stars. You can go to your appointment afterward. No one will know—or care."
"Except our own souls."