“Do you want it?”
“You never did this before––touched me––unnecessarily.”
As he made no answer, she fell silent, her dark eyes vaguely interrogative as though questioning herself as well as him concerning this unaccustomed contact.
His head had been bent a little. Now he lifted it. Neither was smiling.
Suddenly she rose to her feet and stood with her head partly averted. He rose, too. Neither spoke. But after a moment she turned and looked straight at him, the virginal curiosity clear in her eyes. And he took her into his arms.
Her arms had fallen to her side. She endured his lips gravely, then turned her head and looked at the roses beside her.
“I was afraid,” she said, “that we would do this. Now let me go, Jim.”
He released her in silence. She walked slowly to the mantel and set one slim foot on the fender.
Without looking around at him she said: “Does this spoil me for you, Jim?”
“You darling–––”