"I have told you already who it is that I need. Isn't that enough?"
The thrill in her low tone set all the man in him on fire. The influence of the hour was strong upon him.
"My God!" he muttered under his breath. "How can mere flesh and blood hold out against you?"
"Must you hold out against me—even after what I said?"
She nestled nearer, and stray tendrils of hair softly brushed his cheek. His lips whitened, but he set them close. Her touch, the perfume of her passion, had their exalting effect on him. Her weakness challenged his strength.
"Yes; I must," he answered quietly. "For your sake, my dear, and for my own self-respect. I am fighting this thing, you understand, with every weapon at my command. And until I see my way clear out on the other side, I will not—I dare not—take you back. Now come. It is high time you were asleep. We can't stay out here together all night."
"We have every right to . . . if we choose," she murmured, still rebellious.
"You forget, I am to teach you common-sense! There is to-morrow to be thought of, and your long ride back to Dalhousie."
A small shiver ran through her.
"I am afraid of to-morrow. I shall wake up and feel as if all this had been a dream. When shall I see you again . . . alone?"