"Yes you do."
"Kindly go at once, or I shall call someone."
"Rose!"
Once more she fell back into her state of terror and delight. His coolness seemed to paralyse her—she could not act. She could only lie and watch him, trembling. Why had he changed so?—he, who had never faltered in his attitude of stiff respect under her most outrageous and flirtatious digs.
"Rose," he said again, and his voice quivered as he said it, "you do want me a liddle bit now."
"What—what makes you think so?"
He shrugged his shoulders—there must have been some foreign streak in his yokel's blood.
"I döan't think it—I know. A year agone you dudn't want me, so I kipt back, I wurn't a-going to mäake you suffer. You wur frightened of that kiss...."
He had spoken it—her terror. "Don't!" she cried.
"You wur frightened, so I saw you wurn't ready, and I tried to mäake you feel as naun had happened."