t! Pull yourself together! Reflect! I implore you . . . You will repent . . ."
Slowly she closed the postern on him.
"You will repent. I shall wait here, under your window . . ."
He heard a bolt rasped into its socket. He heard the retreat of a light tread on the paven hall.
And he hadn't even kissed her! That was his first thought. He ground his heel in the gravel.
And he had hurt her wrists! This was Zuleika's first thought, as she came into her bedroom. Yes, there were two red marks where he had held her. No man had ever dared to lay hands on her. With a sense of contamination, she proceeded to wash her hands thoroughly with soap and water. From time to time such words as "cad" and "beast" came through her teeth.
She dried her hands and flung herself into a chair, arose and went pacing the room. So this was the end of her great night! What had she done to deserve it? How had he dared?
There was a sound as of rain against the window. She was glad. The night needed cleansing.
He had told her she was afraid of life. Life!--to have herself caressed by HIM; humbly to devote herself to being humbly doted on; to be the slave of a slave; to swim in a private pond of treacle—ugh! If the thought weren't so cloying and degrading, it would be laughable.
