“All that, all that, and you only a boy,” whispered the girl, half to herself. “You must not tell the major. You must not,” she cried fiercely.
“I must,” he whispered. “I will.”
“You must not. You won't. You must go away, go away. Wipe the slate clean,” she added tensely. “You must not tell the major. It must be broken to him gently, by degrees. Boy, boy, don't you know what it is to love; to have your heart twisted, broken, trampled? You must not tell him. It would kill. I—know.” She crushed her hands in her lap.
“I'm a coward if I run,” he said.
“A murderer if you stay,” she answered. “And Mr. Waterbury—he will flay you—keep you in the mire. I know. No, you must go, you must go. Must have a chance for regeneration.”
“You are very kind—very kind. You do not say you loathe me.” He arose abruptly, clenching his hands above his head in silent agony.
“No, I do not,” she whispered, leaning forward, hands gripping the log, eyes burning up into his face. “I do not. Because I can't. I can't. Because I love you, love you, love you. Boy, boy, can't you see? Won't you see? I love you—”
“Don't,” he cried sharply, as if in physical agony. “You don't know what you say—”
“I do, I do. I love you, love you,” she stormed. Passion, long stamped down, had arisen in all its might. The surging intensity of her nature was at white heat. It had broken all bonds, swept everything aside in its mad rush. “Take me with you. Take me with you—anywhere,” she panted passionately. She arose and caught him swiftly by the arm, forcing up her flaming face to his. “I don't care what you are—I know what you will be. I've loved you from the first. I lied when I ever said I hated you. I'll help you to make a new start. Oh, so hard! Try me. Try me. Take me with you. You are all I have. I can't give you up. I won't! Take me, take me. Do, do, do!” Her head thrown back, she forced a hungry arm about his neck and strove to drag his lips to hers.
He caught both wrists and eyed her. She was panting, but her eyes met his unwaveringly, gloriously unashamed. He fought for every word. “Don't—tempt—me—Sue. Good God, girl! you don't know how I love you. You can't. Loved you from that night in the train. Now I know who you were, what you are to me—everything. Help me to think of you, not of myself. You must guard yourself. I'm tired of fighting—I can't——”