Doré, inventing details, building up a favorable incident, exaggerated the importance, recounted the interview.
"I told him Zeller was after you. You know how he hates Zeller! He's crazy to steal you! You'll see! Everything will work like a charm—and the part just for you!"
She continued optimistically pouring out encouragement. Winona allowed herself to be convinced, grasping at straws. They remained talking deeply of difficulties and discouragements, always avoiding the questions that lay below. Once Doré had said tentatively:
"Winona, wouldn't it help you just to talk out everything—tell me everything? I'd understand. Do trust me!"
But the girl, resisting, answered hastily:
"No! no! Not now! Some day, perhaps."
Doré made no further effort. She drew her arm about her.
"Then let me quiet you," she said softly.
Winona, without resistance, allowed herself to go into her arms. They ceased speaking, clinging to each other there in the dark, and a strange sensation came to Doré at the touch of the body clinging to her, these unseen arms so tenaciously taut: it seemed to her almost that she heard another voice, mastering her physically and morally, making her suddenly flexible and without defense, a voice saying:
"Now, stop acting!"