“No, I give you none! Why do you interfere! A—a girl's policy costs her something if it be worth anything; whatever it costs it is worth it to me.... And I do not love you. In so short a time how could I?”
Then in his arms she fell a-trembling. Something blinded her eyes, and she turned her head sharply, only to encounter his lips on hers in a deep, clinging embrace that left her dazed, still resisting with the fragments of breath and voice.
“Not again—I beg—you. Let me go now. It is not best. Oh! truly, truly it is all wrong with us now.” She bent her head, blinded with tears, swaying, stunned; then, with a breathless sound, turned in his arms to meet his lips, her hands contracting in his; and, confronting, they paused, suspending the crisis, young faces close, and hearts afire.
“Sylvia, I love you.”
For an instant their lips clung; she had rendered him his kiss. Then, tremblingly, “It is useless... even though I loved you.”
“Say it!”
“I do.”
“Say it!”
“I—I cannot!... And it is no use—no use! I do not know myself—this way. My eyes—are wet. It is not like me; there is nothing of me in this girl you hold so closely, so confidently.... I do care for you—how can I help it? How could any woman help it? Is not that enough?”
“Until you are a bride, yes.”