"How can you?" she cried. "How cruel!"
She covered her face suddenly, and her whole body began to tremble.
"Good night!" he said hurriedly, a prey to a wild tugging that bade him leap to her.
She did not answer, swaying in the center of her room, shaken from head to foot.
"Good night!" He took a long breath and repeated: "Good night, Dodo!"
Still she did not answer.
"To-morrow!"
No longer trusting himself, he flung through the door, out and down the stairs.
She went herself across the room, her knees sinking under her, groped for the door, weakly closed it and turned the key. And for the first time she was afraid!
How was it possible that she, who had known so much, who had feared so little, should suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, have been overwhelmed, caught and mastered? What did it mean? And this question brought with it a fierce delirious joy in her moment of panic. For she was in fear—of many things known, and things uncomprehended: fear of where she had passed; fear of where she was going; of him!