She had sunk back and closed her eyes. “My Thyrsis!” she whispered.
“You love me?” he asked. “You are quite sure?”
“I am quite sure!” she said.
He kissed her; again and again he kissed her, until he had made sure of her desire. Then suddenly, he began with trembling fingers to unfasten the neck of her dress.
For a moment she did not comprehend what he meant. Then she gave a start. “Thyrsis!” she cried.
And she sprang up, staring at him with fright in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Thyrsis!” she gasped. “What—what were you going to do?”
And at her question, shame swept over him. He was horrified at himself. How could he find words to tell her what he had been going to do?
He turned away with a moan, and put his hands over his face. “Oh God, I can’t stand this!” he exclaimed.