"Is love enough for you, Jacqueline?"
"Ask yourself, Jim. With what you give I must be content—or starve."
"Do you realise—what it means for us?" He could scarcely speak now.
"Yes—I know." She turned and looked back. Herrendene was now a long way off, walking slowly and alone. Then she turned once more to Desboro, absently, as though absorbed in her own reflections. Herrendene had asked her to marry him that morning. She was thinking of it now.
Then, in her remote gaze the brief dream faded, her eyes cleared, and she looked up at the silent man beside her.
"Shall I remain here with you?" she asked.
He made an effort to speak, but his voice was no longer under command. She waited, watching him; then they both turned and slowly entered the house together. Her hand had fallen into his, and when they reached the library he lifted it to his lips and noticed that her fingers were trembling. He laid his other hand over them, as though to quiet the tremor; and looked into her face and saw how colourless it had become.
"My darling!" But the time had not yet come when he could tolerate his own words; contempt for them choked him for a moment, and he only took her into his arms in silence.
She strove to think, to speak, to master her emotion; but for a moment his mounting passion subdued her and she remained silent, quivering in his embrace.
Then, with an effort, she found her voice and loosened his arms.