Swiftly and in
silence she put her arms about his neck and kissed him. It was a
strange, cold kiss, but almost fierce, and then without a word she
turned and walked away; and he watched her to the corner of Hanover
Gate, but she did not look back.
It was almost as if it had raised a barrier between them, that kiss.
The next evening she came to meet him with a smile as usual, but in
her eyes was still that odd suggestion of lurking fear; and when,
seated beside her, he put his hand on hers it seemed to him she
shrank away from him. It was an unconscious movement. It brought
back to him that haunting memory of hill and stream when some soft-
eyed fawn, strayed from her fellows, would let him approach quite
close to her, and then, when he put out his hand to caress her,
would start away with a swift, quivering movement.
"Do you always wear gloves?" he asked her one evening a little
later.
"Yes," she answered, speaking low; "when I'm out of doors."
"But this is not out of doors," he had pleaded. "We have come into
the garden. Won't you take them off?"
She had looked at him from under bent brows, as if trying to read
him. She did not answer him then. But on the way out, on the last
seat close to the gate, she had sat down, motioning him to sit
beside her.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237