She heard him in the passage, heard his
tread upon the threshold, heard his voice greeting her.
"Hullo, darling! All alone in the dark? I've had a beast of a day away
from you."
His hands reached out and clasped her. She was actually in his arms
before she found her voice.
"Dick! Dick! Please! I want to speak to you," she said.
He clasped her close. His lips pressed hers, stopping all utterance for a
while with a mastery that would not be held in check. She could not
resist him, but there was no rapture in her yielding. His love was like a
flame about her, but she was cold--cold as ice. Suddenly, with his face
against her neck, he spoke: "What's the matter, Juliet?"
She quivered in response, made an attempt to release herself, felt his
arms tighten, and was still. "I have--found out--something," she said,
her voice very low.
"What is it?" he said.
She did not answer. A great impulse arose in her to wrench herself
from him, to thrust him back but she could not. She stood--a
prisoner--in his hold.
He waited a moment, still with his face bent over her, his lips close to
her neck. "Is it anything that--matters?" he asked.
She felt his arms drawing her and quivered again like a trapped bird.
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