It is not difficult to imagine that Paul felt far from calm during this scene--indeed he was obliged to hold on to his great chair to prevent himself from seizing her in his arms. "I'm--I'm so glad you like him," he said in a choked voice. "I thought probably you would. And your own was not worthy of you. I found this by chance. And oh! good God! if you knew how you are making me feel--lying there wasting your caresses upon it!" She tossed the scarlet rose over to him; it hit his mouth. "I am not wasting them," she said, the innocence of a kitten in her strange eyes--their colour impossible to define to-day. "Indeed not, Paul! He was my lover in another life--perhaps--who knows?" "But I," said Paul, who was now quite mad, "want to be your lover in this!" Then he gasped at his own boldness. With a lightning movement she lay on her face, raised her elbows on the tiger's head, and supported her chin in her hands. Perfectly straight out her body was, the twisted purple drapery outlining her perfect shape, and flowing in graceful lines beyond--like a serpent's tail. The velvet pillows fell scattered at one side. "Paul--what do you know of lovers--or love?" she said. "My baby Paul!" "I know enough to know I know nothing yet which is worth knowing," he said confusedly. "But--but--don't you understand, I want you to teach me--" "You are so sweet, Paul! when you plead like that I am taking in every bit of you. In your way as perfect as this tiger. But we must talk--oh! such a great, great deal--first." A rage of passion was racing through Paul, his incoherent thoughts were that he did not want to talk--only to kiss her--to devour her--to strangle her with love if necessary. He bit the rose. "You see, Paul, love is a purely physical emotion," she continued. "We could speak an immense amount about souls, and sympathy, and understanding, and devotion. All beautiful things in their way, and possible to be enjoyed at a distance from one another. All the things which make passion noble--but without love--which _is_ passion--these things dwindle and become duties presently, when the hysterical exaltation cools. Love is _tangible_--it means to be close--close--to be clasped--to be touching--to be One!" Her voice was low--so concentrated as to be startling in contrast to the drip of the rain outside, and her eyes--half closed and gleaming--burnt into his brain. It seemed as if strange flames of green darted from their pupils. "But that is what I want!" Paul said, unsteadily. "Without counting the cost? Tears and--cold steel--and blood!" she whispered. "Wait a while, beautiful Paul!" He started back chilled for a second, and in that second she changed her position, pulling the cushions around her, nestling into them and drawing herself cosily up like a child playing on a mat in front of the fire, while with a face of perfect innocence she looked up as she drew one of her great books nearer, and said in a dreamy voice: