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Various

"O. Henry Memorial Award Prize Stories of 1920"

"Don't touch me!" she cried as he came
nearer. "Don't! I've been nervous all day, and lonely." She tried to
control herself, but as his arms went around her, she began to sob
like a hurt child. "If you leave me, I shall die. I can't bear it. I
know it's wicked of me." Her words reached him brokenly. "It's only
because you're all I have. I've given up everything; and now----"
He stood very still, staring into space, his hold on her never
loosening. She stumbled on, confessing what had lain hidden in her
heart until this moment. She told him things she had never thought
she could betray to any one--things she had never even dared
formulate. When she had done, he said in a strange, gentle voice:
"I didn't know you depended so on me. But it's all right; I won't
leave you, ever. It's all right. There, dear, I understand."
She struggled free from his hold, and dried her eyes with a sudden
passionate gesture of scattering tears.
"You shall go," she said fiercely. "I hate myself for acting this way.
It was only because----" She could get no further.
He did not attempt to touch her again. They stood facing one another,
measuring their love.
"I might go," he said at last, as if to himself; "but in going I
should spoil something very precious.


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