Holding her to his heart—an inanimate burden—he kissed her cold lips, her eyelids, her hair; called her by names whose use she had long forgotten, whose revival caused her pain like nausea. If he could have known it, this was the last way to win her. It was like pressing upon a queasy invalid the sweets which had made him sick. But he, remembering their ancient potency, seeing himself the triumphant wielder of charms, felt secure in them still; therefore she was his darling, his hardy little lover, his Queen of Love, his saucy Sancie, his lass. On fire himself by his own blowing, at last he fell upon his knees and clasped hers: “Dearest, most beautiful, my own, I love you more than ever. Comfort me, be my salvation—I pray that I may be worth your while. Marry me, Sancie, and save my soul alive.”
Honestly, for the moment, he believed himself irresistible, and so far succeeded with her that her disgust hid itself in a cloud of pity. She felt pity for a man abject at her feet, and could speak more kindly to him.
But she could not bring herself to touch him. Looking down at him there, her eyes were softer and her lips took a gentler curve. “You mustn't be down there,” she said. “I don't like to see you there—and can't talk to you till you get up. Let's sit down and talk—if you will.” He rose obediently and stood with heaving chest, while she drew a chair to the fire and seated herself. Then he took to the hearthrug, and possessed himself of her hand.
“What a cold hand, my dear! Oh, Sancie, how I could have warmed you once! Is that never to be again? Don't tell me so, for God's sake.”
“Oh, how can I tell!” cried she. “Surely you can understand me better than that? Do you ask me to forget everything that has has happened in eight years?”
“I asked you to forgive me, my dear.”
“And I have forgiven.”
“But do you store these things up against me? That's not too generous, is it?”
“I don't store anything,” she assured him; “but it wouldn't be honest of me to pretend I am what I was—once. I was a child then, and now I'm a woman. You have made me that. I am what you made me.”
He stared into the fire, dropped her hand, which she instantly hid under the other.