twist she freed her wrists and darted back.

He laughed. "You are afraid of me. You are afraid to let me kiss you,
because you are afraid of loving me. This afternoon--here--I all but
kissed you. I mistook you for Death. I was enamoured of Death. I was a
fool. That is what YOU are, you incomparable darling: you are a fool.
You are afraid of life. I am not. I love life. I am going to live for
you, do you hear?"

She stood with her back to the postern. Anger in her eyes had given
place to scorn. "You mean," she said, "that you go back on your
promise?"

"You will release me from it."

"You mean you are afraid to die?"

"You will not be guilty of my death. You love me."

"Good night, you miserable coward." She stepped back through the
postern.

"Don't, Zuleika! Miss Dobson, don't! Pull yourself together! Reflect! I
implore you... You will repent..."

Slowly she closed the postern on him.

"You will repent. I shall wait here, under your window..."

He heard a bolt rasped into its socket. He heard the retreat of a light
tread on the paven hall.

And he hadn't even kissed her! That was his first thought. He ground his
heel in the gravel.

And he had hurt her wrists! This was Zuleika's first thought, as she
came into her bedroom. Yes, there were two red marks where he had
held her. No man had ever dared to lay hands on her. With a sense of
contamination, she proceeded to wash her hands thoroughly with soap and
water. From time to time such words as "cad" and "beast" came through
her teeth.

She dried her hands and flung herself into a chair, arose and went
pacing the room. So this was the end of her great night! What had she
done to deserve it? How had he dared?

There was a sound as of rain against the window. She was glad. The night
needed cleansing.

He had told her she was afraid of life. Life!--to have herself caressed
by HIM; humbly to devote herself to being humbly doted on; to be the
slave of a slave; to swim in a private pond of treacle--ugh! If the
thought weren't so cloying and degrading, it would be laughable.

For a moment her hands hovered over those two golden and gemmed volumes
encasing Bradshaw and the A.B.C. Guide. To leave Oxford by an early
train, leave him to drown unthanked, unlooked at... But this could
not be done without slighting all those hundreds of other men ... And
besides...

Again that sound on the window-pane. This time it startled her. There
seemed to be no rain. Could