heart that I must leave you...."

The turbulence of the sudden demonstration swept the girl from her
moorings. If she had seemed to invite it, it yet came quite
unexpectedly. For the moment she stood still in Canning's embrace,
yielding herself with a thrilled passivity, as one who, with a full
heart, touches high destiny at last. And in that moment her cheek, hair,
eyes, then at last her lips, felt the sting of his Catullian
endearments....

But the moment of bliss in culmination passed with fainting quickness.
The willing ear heard not. Unsteadied intuitions began to work again,
chilling the girl's blood with the knowledge of wrong here, of glaring
omission. And the more her gallant murmured, it seemed, the wider gaped
the sudden lack....

"You've been so good to me--so dear, so sweet--charmed away my hours as
no one else could. Darling!... It's hard to be the stranger and the
passer-by! I know you'll forget me, only too soon.... How can I tell you
how grateful I am for all you've given me, in sweetness and
happy days?..."

How, indeed, since this was the utmost of his wish of her?

The girl's blood warmed again with a leap, overflowing upon her fine
skin. Understanding now came to her, with crushing force. Her knight
made for her a pretty summary of an episode that was past. There was to
come no coronation of words to ennoble these caresses: Mr. Canning, at
parting, desired to thank her for her sweetness. And this was the high
moment toward which she had been dancing on the fleece-pink of clouds
through many days....

And then his arms about her were suddenly a burning and a torture; she
felt a blush sweep her from head to foot, enveloping her as in a garment
of fire, shaking her with a wild mysterious shame. And she took herself,
almost with violence, from the enfolding embrace.

All tenderness, Canning came after her, Pan and his fleeing nymph....

"You darling, I've frightened you! Forgive my roughness. You can't know
how your utter adorableness throws me off my guard...."

She turned to the mantelpiece, and, laying a rounded arm upon it, buried
her face from his view.

Canning had come near, intending a gentler caress; but something in the
dead unresponsiveness of her bowed figure abruptly allayed that
intention. The complete repulse, the girl's silent emotion, had
surprised him, indeed, like a box on the ears. Well he knew the
feministic curve of advance and recoil. Yet he found himself
unexpectedl