had been vindictive. He wanted to be on good terms with
her again.

He went into her boudoir, a remote and very cushiony place. She was
sitting at her table writing letters. She lifted her face abstractedly
when he entered, watched him go to the sofa, and sit down. Then she
looked down at her paper again.

He took up a large volume which he had been reading before, and became
minutely attentive to his author. His back was towards Hermione. She
could not go on with her writing. Her whole mind was a chaos, darkness
breaking in upon it, and herself struggling to gain control with her
will, as a swimmer struggles with the swirling water. But in spite of
her efforts she was borne down, darkness seemed to break over her, she
felt as if her heart was bursting. The terrible tension grew stronger
and stronger, it was most fearful agony, like being walled up.

And then she realised that his presence was the wall, his presence was
destroying her. Unless she could break out, she must die most
fearfully, walled up in horror. And he was the wall. She must break
down the wall--she must break him down before her, the awful
obstruction of him who obstructed her life to the last. It must be
done, or she must perish most horribly.

Terribly shocks ran over her body, like shocks of electricity, as if
many volts of electricity suddenly struck her down. She was aware of
him sitting silently there, an unthinkable evil obstruction. Only this
blotted out her mind, pressed out her very breathing, his silent,
stooping back, the back of his head.

A terrible voluptuous thrill ran down her arms--she was going to know
her voluptuous consummation. Her arms quivered and were strong,
immeasurably and irresistibly strong. What delight, what delight in
strength, what delirium of pleasure! She was going to have her
consummation of voluptuous ecstasy at last. It was coming! In utmost
terror and agony, she knew it was upon her now, in extremity of bliss.
Her hand closed on a blue, beautiful ball of lapis lazuli that stood on
her desk for a paper-weight. She rolled it round in her hand as she
rose silently. Her heart was a pure flame in her breast, she was purely
unconscious in ecstasy. She moved towards him and stood behind him for
a moment in ecstasy. He, closed within the spell, remained motionless
and unconscious.

Then swiftly, in a flame that drenched down her body like fluid
lightning and gave her a perfect, unutterable consummation, unutterab