“Lord,” she said, “I cannot.”
“Bah! Twenty!” called Marpasse.
Aymery’s eyes were like the pleading eyes of a dog. He remembered what Marpasse had said to him. Yet despite her vigorous counsel the great love in him made him reverent.
“Why cannot?” he asked her simply.
She looked up at him and her eyes swam with tears.
“Because of—of the pride in me, because of all that has happened.”
“Fool, kiss her! Thirty!” murmured Marpasse.
Aymery still held Denise’s hands. Yet he was looking beyond her towards the town hazy with the golden mist of the morning.
“It was I who brought it on you,” he said.
He felt Denise shudder, and the impulse mastered him, he drew her to him, and kissed her upon the mouth. She did not resist, but her mouth was cold, and her eyes troubled. Gaillard’s shadow seemed to come between them.