Unconsciously he obeyed, and yet seemed amazed at himself for not crushing her form in his embrace as he had done in times gone by when the whole realm of earth had been centered in her beloved presence.
Had she then ceased to love him—true, he had been cruel in his judgment, but since on his part time had effected no apparent cure, could it be possible that she despised where once she adored?
He searched for an answer, nor did he have to look long.
Under his troubled gaze burning blushes swept over her face and neck—she trembled with the intensity of her emotions, her breath came in quick, spasmodic gasps, and she looked like a beautiful fluttering bird facing its fate.
Love still reigned in her heart where he had once been king.
Then why this strange action—while yet loving did she mean to sacrifice this man who to her had been a god, however gross his material may have appeared to other eyes?
Was resentment, the desire to avenge her wrongs paramount to love?
While the ways of womankind were not wholly a sealed book to Owen, he had always frankly confessed himself unable to understand them. Yes, he had even drilled himself into the habit of being surprised at nothing the sex might do, either noble or otherwise—they were full of the unexpected to him.
"You say stand back—see, I obey you. Tell me to go, and I leave your presence forever. And yet I am wretchedly sorry and would do all in my power to wipe out the past, to make you believe in me as once you did. Is there any such way—shall I have a chance, Georgia?"