Then, by quick movement, she averted her head, as though she wished to conceal from him her tears.
The fire mounted into his temples. He caught her hand, drawing her to him and crying:
"Sheila, Sheila, my darling!"
"Oh! OH!"
She sprang up, wrenching free her hand. Fargus, swept away by his infatuation, followed her, seizing her by her arm. With a rapid movement of anger she threw him off and, dashing a stinging hand across his face, cried:
"All or nothing!"
Then flinging the pin into the dust she stamped on it, covered her face with her hands and, bursting into sobs, ran away; leaving Fargus so thoroughly undone that he could neither speak or move.
"Ah, she wants to marry me, does she?" he cried with a clap of rage, when he had recovered a little from his amazement. He picked up the twisted brooch, dusted it off and cried again, overcome by the enormity of her crime: "She wants to marry me! That's her game, then! Marry me! Huh!"
With a roar he made off, swaying between incredulity and rage, contempt vying with derisive laughter. Full of fury and tempest he passed the night, eating out the slow hours until the next afternoon when he descended like a lion upon the Square, to force an understanding. She was not there.