He was silent until he could withstand no longer, then he
spoke so urgently in her ear that he broke in upon that queer, choking
reserve of hers which had kept her from yielding to him:
"Roberta--I _must_ know--I can't bear it."
She turned, then, and put out her hand. He grasped it in both his own.
"What does that mean, dear? May I--may I have the rest of you?"
It was only a tiny nod she gave, this strange girl, Roberta, who had
been so afraid of love, and was so afraid of it yet. And as if he
understood and appreciated her fear, he was very gentle with her. His
arms came about her as they might have come about a frightened child,
and drew her away from the pillar with a tender insistence which all at
once produced an extraordinary effect. When she found that she was not
to be seized with that devastating grasp of possession which she had
dreaded, she was suddenly moved to desire it. His humbleness touched and
melted her--his humbleness, in him who had been at first so
arrogant--and with the first exquisite rush of response she was taken
out of herself. She gave herself to his embrace as one who welcomes it,
and let him have his way--all his way--a way in which he quite forgot to
be gentle at all.
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