She went a step or two towards him. She seemed to speak by a power outside herself. “In our maddest moments your eyes are still measuring me. You never lose yourself. . . . You should not have forced me to speak of this. I see that all the things I ordinarily say are mere nonsense—like the noises made by savages to keep devils off. . . . You have roused a fever in me that is burning me up. . . . But . . . but . . . I don’t want to have a child. . . .” “Oh, for Heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Joe, startled, showing his teeth. The jangling voice recalled her to herself, wincing. She walked unevenly up and down. “The nonsense that they teach girls!” she murmured. “It made a rebel of me. I had prudence and obedience and chastity thrust down my throat until I fell in love with everything that was reckless and bad. I understood the devil worshippers. That’s how you got me. . . .” “I don’t care how I got you,” said Joe with a secret smile. She came to a stop. Her eyes were widely distended and quite unseeing. She made vague passes with her hand in the effort to express the inexpressible. “But all that stuff I laughed at . . . religion . . . all that stuff . . . is getting back at me . . . I mean may be it is . . . all kinds of things are working inside me . . . maybe there’s something in it. . . .” “You’re talking wildly!” said Joe. She shook her head. “I never got so close to naming it before . . . the thing you don’t talk about . . .” “Come here,” said Joe, half contemptuously. She shook her head inattentively. “Let me be. . . .” He stood up. “Come here!” he said, peremptorily. She looked at him reluctantly—and lost herself. A deep blush overspread her pale skin; her face became irradiated with a confused and imploring smile. She went to him slowly; shamed and rapturous. Joe had dropped back into the big chair. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pressed her down to her knees at his feet. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commanded. She obeyed. He pressed his lips to hers. “Now . . . _now_ tell me if there is anything in life that matters beside this,” he said breathlessly. “No! No! No!” she whispered passionately. “I want only you!” “You see, you’ll have to marry me!” “No, Joe!” “But I say you shall!” VII On a mild, bright afternoon, Elaine and Wilfred ran down the steps of the Sturges house, and turned east. Wilfred had enjoined Elaine to dress plainly; and she was wearing a severe tweed coat, and an inconspicuous hat bound round with a veil. Thus clad, her brave air was more apparent than ever. Wilfred’s heart beat high. Leaving behind them the big house which typified Elaine’s crowded exotic life, he felt for the first time that he had her to himself. Looking at her, he thought: It is impossible that Joe could reach his grimy paw so high! As usual, I have been tormenting myself without reason. “Now elucidate the mystery,” said Elaine. “Where are we going?”