Instinct warned
her what to expect if she attempted to withdraw herself. Moreover, the
tumult of her feeling was such that she did not want to do so. She wanted
only to hide her head for a space, and be still.
He pressed her close, still laughing at her shyness. "What a good thing
I'm not shy!" he said. "If I were, to-day would be the end of everything
instead of the beginning. Can't you bring yourself to look at your new
possession? Did you think you could laugh and run away for all time?"
Then, as in muffled accents she besought him to be patient with her, he
softened magically and for the first time spoke of love.
"Don't you know you have wrenched the very heart out of me, you little
brown witch? I loved you from the very first moment of our dance
together. You've been too much for me all through. I had to have you. I
simply had to have you."
She trembled afresh at his words, but she clung closer. If the fear
deepened, so also did the fascination. She tried to picture him as
hers--hers, and failed. He was so fine, so splendid, so much too big for
her.
He went on, dropping his voice lower, his breath warm upon her neck. "Are
you going to take all and give--nothing, Daphne? Did they make you
without a heart, I wonder? Like a robin that mates afresh a dozen times
in a season? Haven't you anything to give me, little sweetheart? Are you
going to keep me waiting for a long, long time, and then send me empty
away?"
That moved her.
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