kind. Time, and my
absence, will attend to the curing of you."

Leonora winced before the flash of savage desire that gleamed in
Rafael's eyes. On her face she felt the ardent breath of lips that were
seeking her own, and she heard him murmur with a stifled roar of
passion:

"No. You shall not go; I refuse to let you go!"

And she felt his strong arms close about her, swaying her from head to
foot, in a clasp to which madness added strength. Her feet left the
ground, and a brutal thrust threw her to her side at the foot of an
orange-tree.

But, in a flash, the Valkyrie reappeared in Leonora. With a supreme
effort, she struggled free from the encircling vise, sat up, threw
Rafael violently to his back, got to her feet, and stamped a foot
brutally and mercilessly down upon the young man's chest, using her
whole weight as though bent on crushing the very framework of his body.

Her face was an inspiring thing to look upon. She seemed to have gone
mad! Her blond hair had fallen awry and was flecked with leaves and
grass and bark. Her green eyes flashed with metallic glints, like
daggers. Her lips were pale from emotion. And in that wild posture,
whether through force of habit, or the suggestiveness of the effort she
had made, she raised her warcry--a piercing, savage "_Hojotoho!_" that
rent the calm of the orchard, frightening the hens and sending them
scampering off over the paths. Her parasol she brandished as if it were
the lance of Wotan's daughter, and several times she aimed it at
Rafael's eyes, as if she intended to spear him blind.

The youth seemed to have collapsed less from the violence of the
struggle than from an overpowering sense of shame. He lay motionless on
the ground, without protesting, and as if not caring ever to rise
again--longing to die under the pressure of that foot which was so
heavily weighing down upon him, taking away his breath.

Leonora regained her composure, and slowly stepped back. Rafael sat up,
and reached for his hat.

It was a painful moment. They stood there cold, as if the sun had gone
out and a glacial wind were blowing through the orchard.

Rafael kept his eyes to the ground, afraid to look up and meet her gaze,
ashamed at the thought of his disordered clothes, which were soiled with
dirt; humiliated at having been beaten and pummeled like a robber caught
by a victim he had expected to find powerless.

He heard Leonora's voice addressing him with the scornful "_tu_" a