"Of me?" He nodded his head, and she laughed. "How absurd!" she said. "I'm not a bit terrifying...."
He was not trembling now. He felt quite calm, as if he had resigned himself to what must be.
"No, I ... I know you're not," he said, "only ..."
"Only what?"
"I don't know!"
She put her cigarette down and turned slightly towards him.
"Funny boy!" she said. "Funny Irish boy!"
He smiled foolishly at her, but did not answer. He knew that if he spoke at all, he would say wild things that could not be withdrawn or explained away.
"Funny scared Irish boy!" she said, and he could see the mockery in her eyes. "Such a frightened Irish boy!..."
He could hold out no longer. She had put her hand out towards him ... why he could not tell ... and impulsively he seized it and clasped it tightly in his. His grasp must have hurt her, for she cried a little and tried to withdraw her hand, but he would not let go his hold of it until, kneeling beside her, he had put his arms about her and kissed her.