She continued to speak; she talked of Kato, even of Alexander Christopoulos; she scarcely knew he was not listening to her until he broke with her name into the heart of her sentence, unaware that he interrupted. He stood up, came round to her chair, and put his hand upon her shoulder; she could not control her trembling. He said briefly, but with all the repressed triumph ringing in his voice, 'Eve, come'; and without a word she obeyed, her eyes fastened to his, her breath shortened, deceit fallen from her, nothing but naked honesty remaining. She had lost even her fear of him. In their stark desire for each other they were equals. He put out his hand and extinguished the candles; dimness fell over the court.
'Eve,' he said, still in that contained voice, 'you know we are alone in this house.'
She acquiesced, 'I know,' not meaning to speak in a whisper, but involuntarily letting the words glide out with her breath.
As he paused, she felt his hand convulsive upon her shoulder; her lids lay shut upon her eyes like heavy petals. Presently he said wonderingly,—
'I have not kissed you.'
'No,' she replied, faint, yet marvellously strong.
He put his arm round her, and half carried her towards the stairs.
'Let me go,' she whispered, for the sake of his contradiction.
'No,' he answered, holding her more closely to him.
'Where are you taking me, Julian?'