"Oh, Jim! don't shuffle——"
"She is in love with another man," he said.
"Nonsense!" But a strange thrill shot through and through her, and, confused, she bent forward, looking him straight in the face.
"Diana! Diana!" he said under his breath, "did you care?"
"I?" she said, reddening. "Jim, I am not a baby.... I thought—as everybody thought—but it was of no consequence—except that she is a sweet girl, and you are my friend."
She recovered herself with a little laugh—or would have, had his hand not closed on hers. She gave it a friendly and vigorous pressure, and attempted to drop it; but he placed the other hand over it, inclosing her slender fingers, which frightened her into pretense of unconsciousness.
Now she stood on the threshold. Now she was on the eve of that daybreak from which she had prayed that the shadows might flee away; and she shrank from the coming light, afraid, while dawn threatened her with what, as yet, she had left undone. And even through the confused sense of expectancy and consternation ran a fierce flame of happiness.
Then, unable to endure it longer, she flung the mask from her, facing the tempest she had sown.
"Let me go, Jim," she said in a colorless voice.
But he held her hand closely imprisoned, and the next moment her body. The rapid racket of her heart seemed to stifle her; she tried to speak—lay inert, crushed against his shoulder, dumb, scarlet, under his kiss.