He lowered his voice so as not to be heard on the stairway, but a flood of mingled passions was rising in him. He was on the point of shaking the door.
"I must see you. . . . Whether you wish it or not, I mean to come in. . . ."
Silence.
"Annette, I hurt you this morning. Forgive me! . . . I want you. What do you want me to do? Tell me. I will do it. . . ."
Silence. Silence.
Philippe clenched his fists. He could have strangled her. With his mouth against the door, he growled, "You are mine. You haven't the right to take yourself back.
"Think hard!" he said. "If you don't open, it is finished for ever.
"Annette, my Annette!" he said.
"Coward!" he said furiously. "You are afraid to see me. You are only strong behind a closed door."
"Why do you torture me?" said a voice behind the door.