This continued
for almost a full minute, when he turned quickly away and walked to the
hearth, indrawing a heavy breath.
He could not endure that which beset him; it was unbearable, because her
eyes had maddeningly seemed to ask him some wistful question. Why did
she let her loveliness so call to him. She was not a trifler who
could play with meanings. Perhaps she did not know what her power was.
Sometimes he could believe that beautiful women did not.
In a few moments, almost before he could reach her, she was rising, and
when she got up she supported herself against the open door, standing
in the moonlight. If he was pale, she was pale also, and her large eyes
would not move from his face, so drawing him that he could not keep away
from her.
"Listen," he broke out suddenly. "Penzance told me--warned me--that
some time a moment would come which would be stronger than all else in a
man--than all else in the world. It has come now. Let me take you home."
"Than what else?" she said slowly, and became even paler than before.
He strove to release himself from the possession of the moment, and in
his struggle answered with a sort of savagery.
"Than scruple--than power--even than a man's determination and decent
pride.
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