"Let me get a wet handkerchief." "No, no. Don't move. I.... I don't want you to move." Unconsciously, Sally gave a little sigh. It was all so easy, so much a question of his being content with whatever she gave, that the adventure was fading. It was ceasing to amuse her. "That's enough," she said. "Now I'm going home." She did not move, and Gaga's clasp tightened. "No," he murmured entreatingly. "Not yet." "_Must_ go." She took her hand away from his forehead, lingeringly. Gaga held her to him with rigidity. "Let me go." He took no notice, and Sally's hand rested gently upon his shoulder. At last: "Well?" said she. "Don't go." There was the slightest struggle, and Sally was free. Gaga's face was quite red. She stood looking down at him, on her lips that same quizzical smile. Gaga could not bear it. He rose quickly, and at her flight followed breathlessly. She was again lightly imprisoned, her head to his breast, and his arms giving small convulsive pressures as he sought to retain her. She could tell his physical weakness, and his feeble, excited desire for her, and she felt his face pressed to her hair. Again Gaga kissed Sally, but she continued to withhold her lips, so that he approached no nearer than her cheek. "You ... you _must_ know I love you," breathed Gaga. "Do I?" asked Sally, coolly. "I don't. Why should I?" "Can't you tell?" He was speaking directly into her ear, so that she felt his breath. "I love you ... like this!" He held her with all his strength, and gave her cheek a fevered, gnawing kiss. "D'you see, Sally? I love you." "How's your headache?" asked Sally. "I ... oh, Sally. Better ... better. But Sally! I love you. Don't you love me a little? Sally!" There was a long silence. Consideringly, Sally looked down, faintly excited, but unemotional. He vainly sought to achieve a mutual kiss; but she kept her head turned away. Strange! Her brain was perfectly clear! She was aware of every contact with him, knew his every wish; and was unmoved. How different it was from when she was with Toby! Gaga's voice resumed: "I think you ... love me a little, Sally, my dear, my angel." "Angel! Good lord!" ejaculated Sally. She put her hands to his breast, forcing him a little away. "D'you think I'm an angel?" "Yes!" came defiantly from Gaga. "You're mad!" cried Sally, with contempt. "You don't know what you're talking about. And even if you _are_ in love with me, as you say, what does it mean? You'd soon get tired of me. You'd begin to think I _wasn't_ an angel. What's the good of it all?" Gaga looked astounded. "But if _you_ love _me_," he stammered. Sally's face was darkened. She had tears in her eyes, and her mouth was thin and hard. There was altogether a hardness in her expression that terrified Gaga. "Even if I did," she said in a grim voice. "But we could be married," he urged.