He did not stir.
"Gos not here?" she asked, in her high, twittering voice. He tried to summon up his anger against her; he told himself that he ought to strike her,--kill her. But he was as if paralyzed; he could not stir; he trembled in every limb. She did not perceive it, and she could not distinguish his features in the darkness.
"So much the better!" she exclaimed. "I am so glad of a quiet cosy evening with you. Do you want to please me, Otto? Come with me now to Uhl's and dine, and then let us go to the theatre. Will you?"
She came up to him. He had arisen, and the fresh sweetness of her feminine nature seemed to envelop him. She put both her hands on his shoulders and nestled close to him. "Will you?" she murmured again.
He put his arms around her and kissed her twice as he never had kissed her before, with a tenderness in which there was a mixture of rage and glowing, frantic passion. Twice he kissed her, and then he suddenly became aware of what he was doing. He thrust her away.
"What is the matter?" she asked, startled.
"Nothing."
"But something is the matter."
"I tell you no!" He hurled the words in her face as it were, and stamped his foot. "Go--get ready!"
She lingered for a moment, and then left the room. He looked after her.