itself to Hilary.

In the street a barrel-organ had begun to play the very waltz it had
played the afternoon when Mr. Stone had been so ill. Those two were
neither of them conscious of that tune, too absorbed in their emotions;
and yet, quietly, it was bringing something to the girl's figure like the
dowering of scent that the sun brings to a flower. It was bringing the
compression back to Hilary's lips, the flush to his ears and cheeks, as a
draught of wind will blow to redness a fire that has been choked.
Without knowing it, without sound, inch by inch he moved nearer to her;
and as though, for all there was no sign of his advance, she knew of it,
she stayed utterly unmoving except for the deep breathing that so stirred
the warm youth in her. In that stealthy progress was the history of life
and the mystery of sex. Inch by inch he neared her; and she swayed,
mesmerising his arms to fold round her thus poised, as if she must fall
backward; mesmerising him to forget that there was anything there,
anything in all the world, but just her young form waiting for
him--nothing but that!

The barrel-organ stopped; the spell had broken! She turned round to him.
As a wind obscures with grey wrinkles the still green waters of
enchantment into which some mortal has been gazing, so Hilary's reason
suddenly swept across the situation, and showed it once more as it was.
Quick to mark every shade that passed across his face, the girl made as
though she would again burst into tears; then, since tears had been so
useless, she pressed her hand over her eyes.

Hilary looked at that round, not too cleanly hand. He could see her
watching him between her fingers. It was uncanny, almost horrible, like
the sight of a cat watching a bird; and he stood appalled at the terrible
reality of his position, at the sight of his own future with this girl,
with her traditions, customs, life, the thousand and one things that he
did not know about her, that he would have to live with if he once took
her. A minute passed, which seemed eternity, for into it was condensed
every force of her long pursuit, her instinctive clutching at something
that she felt to be security, her reaching upwards, her twining round
him.

Conscious of all this, held back by that vision of his future, yet
whipped towards her by his senses, Hilary swayed like a drunken man. And
suddenly she sprang at him, wreathed her arms round his neck, and
fastened her mouth to his. T