"No. Not this way."
"Yes—yes. It's all right, darling. We've struggled till we can't struggle any more. You must. Why not? When you love me."
He pressed her closer in his arms. She lay quiet there. When she was quiet he let her speak.
"I can't," she said. "It's Molly. Poor little Molly."
"Don't talk to me of Molly. She lied about you."
"Whatever she did she couldn't help it."
"Whatever we do now we can't help it."
"We can. We're different. Oh—don't! Don't hold me like that. I can't bear it."
His arms tightened. His mouth found hers again as if he had not heard her.
She gave a faint cry that pierced him.