entment, were
restoring her self-possession, giving her a sense of power.

"We can't stay here," he went on, after a moment. "Let's take a little
walk--I've got a lot to say to you. I want to put myself right." He tried
to take her arm, but she avoided him. They started along the canal in the
direction of the Stanley Street bridge. "Don't you care for me a little?"
he demanded.

"Why should I?" she parried.

"Then--why did you come?"

"To hear what you had to say."

"You mean--about this afternoon?"

"Partly," said Janet.

"Well--we'll talk it all over. I wanted to explain about this afternoon,
especially. I'm sorry--"

"Sorry!" she exclaimed.

The vehemence of her rebuke--for he recognized it as such--took him
completely aback. Thus she was wont, at the most unexpected moments, to
betray the passion within her, the passion that made him sick with
desire. How was he to conquer a woman of this type, who never took refuge
in the conventional tactics of her sex, as he had known them?

"I didn't mean that," he explained desperately. "My God--to feel you, to
have you in my arms--! I was sorry because I frightened you. But when you
came near me that way I just couldn't help it. You drove me to it."

"Drove you to it!"

"You don't understand, you don't know how--how wonderful you are. You
make me crazy. I love you, I want you as I've never wanted any woman
before--in a different way. I can't explain it. I've got so that I can't
live without you." He flung his arm toward the lights of the mills.
"That--that used to be everything to me, I lived for it. I don't say I've
been a saint--but I never really cared anything about any woman until I
knew you, until that day I went through the office and saw you what you
were. You don't understand, I tell you. I'm sorry for what I did to-day
because it offended you--but you drove me to it. Most of the time you
seem cold, you're like an iceberg, you make me think you hate me, and
then all of a sudden you'll be kind, as you were the other night, as you
seemed this afternoon--you make me think I've got a chance, and then,
when you came near me, when you touched my hand--why, I didn't know what
I was doing. I just had to have you. A man like me can't stand it."

"Then I'd better go away," she said. "I ought to have gone long ago."

"Why?" he cried. "Why? What's your reason? Why do you want to ruin my
life? You've--you've woven yourself into it--you're a part of it. I never
kn