“Not for you. You are too full of life and hope yet for, what is it?—not the dark arch nor the black flowing river. Don’t you think of it. You’ll only shirk it when the moment comes, and turn it all into comedy.” She turned round abruptly from him and stood looking out across the parade at the shining sea over which the afterglow of day fled before the rising moon. He maintained his attitude. The blinds were still up, for she had told the waiter not to draw them. There was silence for some moments. At last he spoke in as persuasive a voice as he could summon. “Take it sensibly, Jessie. Why should we, who have so much in common, quarrel into melodrama? I swear I love you. You are all that is bright and desirable to me. I am stronger than you, older; man to your woman. To find _you_ too—conventional!” She looked at him over her shoulder, and he noticed with a twinge of delight how her little chin came out beneath the curve of her cheek. “_Man!_” she said. “Man to _my_ woman! Do _men_ lie? Would a _man_ use his five and thirty years’ experience to outwit a girl of seventeen? Man to my woman indeed! That surely is the last insult!” “Your repartee is admirable, Jessie. I should say they do, though—all that and more also when their hearts were set on such a girl as yourself. For God’s sake drop this shrewishness! Why should you be so—difficult to me? Here am I with _my_ reputation, _my_ career, at your feet. Look here, Jessie—on my honour, I will marry you—” “God forbid,” she said, so promptly that she never learnt he had a wife, even then. It occurred to him then for the first time, in the flash of her retort, that she did not know he was married. “’Tis only a pre-nuptial settlement,” he said, following that hint. He paused. “You must be sensible. The thing’s your own doing. Come out on the beach now—the beach here is splendid, and the moon will soon be high.” “_I won’t_” she said, stamping her foot. “Well, well—” “Oh! leave me alone. Let me think—” “Think,” he said, “if you want to. It’s your cry always. But you can’t save yourself by thinking, my dear girl. You can’t save yourself in any way now. If saving it is—this parsimony—” “Oh, go—go.” “Very well. I will go. I will go and smoke a cigar. And think of you, dear.... But do you think I should do all this if I did not care?” “Go,” she whispered, without glancing round. She continued to stare out of the window. He stood looking at her for a moment, with a strange light in his eyes. He made a step towards her. “I _have_ you,” he said. “You are mine. Netted—caught. But mine.” He would have gone up to her and laid his hand upon her, but he did not dare to do that yet. “I have you in my hand,” he said, “in my power. Do you hear—_Power!_”