But although Glenn became daily more enamored of the girl, he wasn't
so satisfied with things as they were. He couldn't say that Nancy
really avoided him, of course. He drove her and Mrs. MacGregor, whom
at times he wished in Jericho, out in the car every afternoon. He
sat opposite her at table thrice daily. Sometimes in the evening he
spent an hour or two with her and Mrs. MacGregor, before going to
his own room to study. But it so happened that he never was able to
see her alone any more; and Nancy certainly made no effort to bring
about that desirable situation. This made him restive and at the
same time increased his passion for her.
For her part, she was perfectly content just to look at him, to know
that he was near. But Glenn was more impatient. He wanted the
fragrance of her hair against his shoulder; he wanted the straight,
strong young body in his arms; he wished to kiss her. And she held
aloof. Although she no longer veiled her eyes from him, although he
was quite sure she loved him, she was always tantalizingly out of
his reach. She didn't seem to understand the lover's desire to be
alone with the beloved, he thought. He grew moody. The weeks seemed
years to his ardent and impetuous spirit. One night, happening to
need a book he had noticed in the library, he went after it. And
there, oh blessed vision, sat Nancy! She had been sleepless and
restless, and had stolen out of her room for something to read that
hadn't been selected by Mrs. MacGregor. It was rather late, but
finding the quiet library pleasanter to her mood than her own room,
she curled up in a comfortable chair and began to read. The book was
Hardy's "Tess," and its strong and somber passion and tragedy filled
her with pity and terror. Something in her was roused by the story;
she felt that she understood and suffered with that simple and
passionate soul.
She looked up, startled, as Glenn entered the room. He came to her
swiftly, his arms outstretched, his face alight.
"You!" he cried, radiant and elate. "You!"
Nancy rose, torn between the desire to retreat, and to fling herself
into those waiting arms. Glenn left her no choice. He seized her,
roughly and masterfully, and held her close, pressing her against
his body. His lips fastened upon hers. Nancy closed her eyes and
shivered. She felt small and helpless, a leaf before the wind, and
she was afraid.
"Nancy!" he whispered. "Nancy! You've got to marry me. We'll just
have to risk it, degree or no degree! What's the use of waiting all
our lives, maybe, when we love each other? When will you marry me,
Nancy?"
She knew then that she had to tell him the truth, and she trembled.
"Glenn, I--I--" she stammered. Her tongue seemed to cleave to the
roof of her mouth.
"Soon? Say yes, Nancy! I'm crazy about you, don't you know that? Why
don't you say when, Nancy?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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