She dodged his demonstration, eluding him with swift grace, and put the desk between them.
"No! No! I chanced, just now, to witness the meeting of the Belters, and that glimpse of conjugal respectability has stiffened my moral backbone.... Besides, I'm deeply worried about you, Jim."
"About me?"
"Certainly. It fills me with anxiety that you should so far degrade yourself as to attempt to kiss a respectable married woman——"
She dodged again, just in time, but he vaulted over the desk and she found herself imprisoned in his arms.
"I'll submit if you don't rumple me," she said. "I've such a darling gown on—be very circumspect, Jim——"
She lifted her face and met his lips, retained them with a little sigh, placing her gloved hands behind his head. They became very still, very serious; her grey eyes grew vague under his deep gaze which caressed them; her arms drew his head closer to her face. Then, very slowly, their lips parted, and she laid her hand on his shoulder and drew his arm around her waist.
In silence they paced the studio for a while, slowly, and in leisurely step with each other deeply preoccupied.
"Steve," he said, "it's the first week in June. The city will be intolerable in a fortnight. Don't you think that we ought to open Runner's Rest?"
"You are going up there with Oswald, aren't you?" she asked, raising her eyes.