"Yes, I think I have. And who's to blame? Who's driven me out of them?" He was standing close in front of her, barring the path. "Oh, I can't go on with all this deception. I lied to you just now. I knew you were coming here,—and I followed you. I felt I must once for all be with you alone."
"Not another word. I will not listen.... Oh!"
Suddenly he had seized her. Roughly and fiercely he flung his arms round her, forced her to him, and kissed her.
"Mr. Marsden!... Shame!... How dare you?... Let me go."
She was struggling in his arms, her head down, her two hands trying to keep him off. Her broad bosom panted, her big shoulders heaved; but with remorseless brutal use of his strength he held her tightly and closely against him.
"There," he said. "Don't fight. You'll have to go through it now.... You women think you can play the fool with a man—set all his blood on fire, and then tell him to behave himself."
"Mr. Marsden, let me go—or I shall die of shame."
"No you won't. Rot. D'you hear? Rot. You're a woman all through: and that face was made to be kissed—like this—like this.... There, this is my hour—"
"Will you let me go?"