"Yes," he said, "that is the only way. You must keep your word to the last and do your best. Only—remember that what I do now has no bearing whatever upon our friendship. I—I care for you—at this moment—more than I ever did. So—forgive me—Karen——"
"I never shall! Kervyn! Kervyn—think what you are doing!——"
He encircled her with his left arm, and with his right hand he gathered both of her slender wrists in his grasp and held them. The satchel rolled from her knees to the floor.
"Kervyn!" she cried, "think what you are doing!" She looked up into his set face where he held her crushed against his shoulder. "I am your friend. Think what you are doing! I—I care—so much—for you!"
"And I for you, Karen.... Is that the key around your neck on that blue ribbon?"
"You shall not have it. Oh, Kervyn! Kervyn!" she gasped—"what are you doing to our friendship! What are you doing!"
"'Kervyn! Kervyn—Think what you are doing!—'"
The struggle was already over; with his left arm he held both of her arms pinned tightly to the supple body which lay panting against him, while with his other hand he untied the narrow blue bow-knot at her throat and freed the tiny key. Then he released her. They both were deadly pale. She dropped back among the pillows and lay there staring at him. There was in the white calm of her face an expression almost pleasant.