in
commission, and you can make up parties and run off whenever you like,
to Scotland or Norway--" He hung above her. "Don't dine with Chelles
to-night! Come with me, and we'll talk things over; and next week we'll
run down to Trouville to choose the villa."

Undine's heart was beating fast, but she felt within her a strange lucid
force of resistance. Because of that sense of security she left her
hands in Van Degen's. So Mr. Spragg might have felt at the tensest hour
of the Pure Water move. She leaned forward, holding her suitor off by
the pressure of her bent-back palms.

"Kiss me good-bye, Peter; I sail on Wednesday," she said.

It was the first time she had permitted him a kiss, and as his face
darkened down on her she felt a moment's recoil. But her physical
reactions were never very acute: she always vaguely wondered why
people made "such a fuss," were so violently for or against such
demonstrations. A cool spirit within her seemed to watch over and
regulate her sensations, and leave her capable of measuring the
intensity of those she provoked.

She turned to look at the clock. "You must go now--I shall be hours late
for dinner."

"Go--after that?" He held her fast. "Kiss me again," he commanded.

It was wonderful how cool she felt--how easily she could slip out of his
grasp! Any man could be managed like a child if he were really in love
with one....

"Don't be a goose, Peter; do you suppose I'd have kissed you if--"

"If what--what--what?" he mimicked her ecstatically, not listening.

She saw that if she wished to make him hear her she must put more
distance between them, and she rose and moved across the room. From the
fireplace she turned to add--"if we hadn't been saying good-bye?"

"Good-bye--now? What's the use of talking like that?" He jumped up and
followed her. "Look here, Undine--I'll do anything on earth you want;
only don't talk of going! If you'll only stay I'll make it all as
straight and square as you please. I'll get Bertha Shallum to stop over
with you for the summer; I'll take a house at Trouville and make my wife
come out there. Hang it, she SHALL, if you say so! Only be a little good
to me!"

Still she stood before him without speaking, aware that her implacable
brows and narrowed lips would hold him off as long as she chose.

"What's the matter. Undine? Why don't you answer? You know you can't go
back to that deadly dry-rot!"

She swept about on him with indignant eyes. "I can