“I—I wished to be—I tried to be. And if I had been—”
He stopped, then went on: “If I had been, Domini, really brave, if I had done what I meant to do that night, what would our lives have been to-day?”
“I don’t know. We mustn’t think of that to-night. We must think of the future. Boris, there’s no life, no real life without bravery. No man or woman is worthy of living who is not brave.”
He said nothing.
“Boris, let us—you and I—be worthy of living to-night—and in the future.”
“Give me your hand then,” he answered. “Give it me, Domini.”
But she did not give it to him. Instead she went on, speaking a little more rapidly:
“Boris, don’t rely too much on my strength. I am only a woman, and I have to struggle. I have had to struggle more than perhaps you will ever know. You—must not make—make things impossible for me. I am trying—very hard—to—I’m—you must not touch me to-night, Boris.”
She drew a little farther away from him. A faint breath of air made the leaves of the palm trees rustle slightly, made the reeds move for an instant by the pool. He laid his hand again on the wall from which he had lifted it. There was a pleading sound in her voice which made him feel as if it were speaking close against his heart.
“I said I would tell you to-night where we are going.”