He moved toward the door, his left fist beating into the palm of his right hand. He must protect her, against himself--and against her innocent affection for him. She fluttered past him, barring the way. Her cheeks were flaming with shame. “You despise me. Why did I let you?” A sob swelled up into her soft round throat. “You blessed lamb,” he groaned. “You're going to leave me. You--you don't want me for a friend any longer.” Her lips trembled--the red little lips that always reminded him of a baby's with its Cupid's bow. She was on the verge of breaking down. Jeff could not stand that. He held out his hands, intending to take hers and explain that he was not angry or disappointed at her. But somehow he found her in his arms instead, supple and warm, vital youth flowing in the soft cheeks' rich coloring and in the eyes quick and passionate with the tender abandon of her sex. He set his teeth against the rush of desire that flooded him as her soft body clung to his. The emotional climax he had vaguely feared had leaped upon them like an uncaged tiger. He fought to stamp down the fires that blazed up in him. Time to think--he must have time to think. “You don't despise me then,” she cried softly, a little catch in her breath. “No,” he protested, and again “No.” “But you think I've done wrong.” “No. I've been to blame. You're a dear girl--and I've abused your kindness. I must go away--now.” “Then you--you do hate me,” she accused with a quivering lip. “No... no. I'm very fond of you.” “But you're going to leave me. It's because I've done wrong.” “Don't blame yourself, dear. It has been all my fault. I ought to have known.” Her hands fell from him. The life seemed to die out of her whole figure. “You do despise me.” Desire of her throbbed through him, but he spoke very quietly. “Listen, dear. There is nobody I respect more... and none I like so much. I can't tell you how... fond of you I am. But I must go now. You don't understand.” She bit her lip to repress the sobs that would come and turned away to hide her shame. Jeff caught her in his arms, kissed her passionately on the lips, the eyes, the soft round throat. “You do... like me,” she purred happily. Abruptly he pushed her from him. Where were they drifting? He must get his anchors down before it was too late. Somehow he broke away, leaving her there hurt and bewildered at his apparent fickleness, at the stiffness with which he had beaten back the sweet delight inviting them. Jeff went to his rooms, his mind in a blind chaotic surge. He sat before the table for hours, fighting grimly to persuade himself he need not put away this joy that had come to him. Surely friendship was a good thing... and love. A man ought not to turn his back on them.