"You have no right to kiss me so—"
"I have the right because I love you—"
"But I don't love you."
"Yes you do, Aileen Armagh—don't say that again."
"I do not love you—let me go, I say."
He let her go at last. She stood before him, pale, but still undaunted.
"Do you know what you are saying?" he demanded almost fiercely under his breath. He took her head between his hands and bent it back to close her lips with another kiss.
"Yes, I know. I do not love you—don't touch me!" She held out her hands to him, palm outwards, as if warding off some present danger.
He paid no heed to her warning, but caught her to him again. "Tell me now you don't love me, Aileen," he whispered, laying his cheek to hers.
"I tell you I do not love you," she said aloud; her voice was clear and firm.