Clare protested feebly.
“I do deny it. I must deny it.”
“It’s a funny thing,” said Gerald Bradshaw. “Between you and me there is a queer spell, Clare. I was conscious of it when I first met you. Something in you calls to me. Something in me calls to you. It is the call of the wild.”
Clare was scared now. These words seemed to make her heart beat to a strange tune.
“What do you mean?” she said.
“It is the call of the untamed creature. Both you and I are untamed. We both have the spirit of the woods. I am Pan. You are a wood nymph, imprisoned in a cage, upholstered by maple, on the hire system.”
“What do you want with me?” asked Clare. It was clear that he was tempting her.
“I want to play with you, like Pan played. You and I will hear the pipes of Pan to-night—the wild nature music.”
“To-night?”
“To-night. I have waited too long for you, and now I’m impatient. I am alone in my flat waiting for you. I ask you to keep me company, not to-night only, but until we tire of each other, until perhaps we hate each other. Who knows?”