luctant eagerness. He kissed her again and again,
on a still mouth, but soon her lips answered his desire.
It grew constantly darker, the silvery vistas
shortened, grew blurred, trees merged into indistinguishable
gloom.

Lettice murmured a shy, unaccustomed endearment.
Gordon was stereotyped, commonplace; he
was certain that even she must recognize the hollowness
of his protestations. But she never doubted
him; she accepted the dull, leaden note of his spurious
passion for the clear ring of unalloyed and
fine gold.

Suddenly and unexpectedly she released herself
from his arms. "Oh!" she exclaimed, in conscience-stricken
tones, "Mrs. Caley's medicine! I -- forgot;
she should have had some long ago." He
tried to catch her once more in his embrace, restrain
her. "It would be better not to wake her up," he
protested, "sleep's what sick folks need." But she
continued to evade him. Mrs. Caley must have her
medicine. The doctor had said that it was important.
"It's my duty, Gordon," she told him, "and
you would want me to do that."

He stifled with difficulty an impatient exclamation.
"Then will you come back?" he queried. He
took her once more close in his arms. "Come
back," he whispered hotly in her ear.

"But, dear Gordon, it is so late."

[[124]]

p123 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p124w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p125

v?