Jack protested. "I could not think of taking any pay for such a trifling service, I assure you."
"Yes, but if I insist?"
"Oh, very well; I will do as you wish."
"And now I must be going." She rose from her chair and began drawing on her gloves, while he sat and watched her. Suddenly an irresistible desire seemed to take possession of him. A desire in some way to make amends for the past.
He pushed back his chair and stood facing her. Several times he attempted to speak, but no sound would come from his parched and burning lips. He stretched forth his hand and took her ungloved one, the same as he had done a year ago. It seemed to him that it was icy cold. Again he tried in vain to say something. Slowly he drew her close, still closer to him, until their lips again met in one long kiss.
Her lips were cold, while his were burning hot. It seemed a long, long time before she gently disengaged herself from his embrace. A sweet smile flitted across her pale face.
"Yes," she said, as if speaking to herself, "this is the second time, but it will be the last. And now I must be going. Adieu!"
He went with her into the hall and down to the elevator, and saw her into the cab. He forgot to ask her where she was staying. His brain seemed to be on fire.
The next morning he felt far from well, and at the breakfast-table his wife remarked upon his looks.