"You're—a goddess!" he replied.
"Me!… Of what?"
"Why, of 'Many Waters'!… Goddess of wheat!… The sweet, waving wheat, rich and golden—the very spirit of life!"
"If anybody sees you—mauling me—this way—I'll not seem a goddess to him.… My hair is down—my waist—Oh, Kurt!"
Yet it did not very much matter how she looked or what happened. Beyond all was the assurance of her dearness to him. Suddenly she darted away from him again. Her heart swelled, her spirit soared, her feet were buoyant and swift. She ran into the uncut alfalfa. It was thick and high, tangling round her feet. Here her progress was retarded. Dorn caught up with her. His strong hands on her shoulders felt masterful, and the sweet terror they inspired made her struggle to get away.
"You shall—not—hold me!" she cried.
"But I will. You must be taught—not to run," he said, and wrapped her tightly in his arms.
"Now surrender your kisses meekly!"
"I—surrender!… But, Kurt, someone will see… Dear, we'll go back—or—somewhere—"
"Who can see us here but the birds?" he said, and the strong hands held her fast. "You will kiss me—enough—right now—even if the whole world—looked on!" he said, ringingly. "Lenore, my soul!… Lenore, I love you!"