, she stepped forward and laid on his arm her quivering
finger-tips.

"You must," she said. "You _shall_ tell me!" and if there was
anger in her voice, if there was anguish in it, there was the
authority likewise of holy and sovereign rights. But he thrust her
all but rudely away, and going to the lower end of the pavement,
walked there backward and forward with his hat pulled low over his
eyes--walked slowly, always more slowly. Twice he laid his hand on
the gate as though he would have passed out. At last he stopped
and looked back to where she waited in the light, her face set
immovably, commandingly, toward him. Then he came back and stood
before her.

The moon, now sinking low, shone full on his face, pale, sad, very
quiet; and into his eyes, mournful as she had never known any eyes
to be. He had taken off his hat and held it in his hand, and a
light wind blew his thick hair about his forehead and temples.
She, looking at him with senses preternaturally aroused, afterwards
remembered all this.

Before he began to speak he saw rush over her face a look of final
entreaty that he would not strike her too cruel a blow. This, when
he had ceased speaking, was succeeded by the expression of one who
has received a shock beyond all imagination. Thus they stood
looking into each other's eyes; then she shrank back and started
toward the house.

He sprang after her.

"You are leaving me!" he cried horribly.

She walked straight on, neither quickening nor slackening her pace
nor swerving, although his body began unsteadily to intercept hers.

He kept beside her.

"Don't! Isabel!" he prayed out of his agony. "Don't leave me like
this--!"

She walked on and reached the steps of the veranda. Crying out in
his longing he threw his arms around her and held her close.

"You must not! You shall not! Do you know what you are doing,
Isabel?"

She made not the least reply, not the least effort to extricate
herself. But she closed her eyes and shuddered and twisted her
body away from him as a bird of the air bends its neck and head as
far as possible from a repulsive captor; and like the heart of such
a bird, he could feel the throbbing of her heart.

Her mute submission to his violence stung him: he let her go. She
spread out her arms as though in a rising flight of her nature and
the shawl, tossed backward from her shoulders, fell to the ground:
it was as if she cast off the garment he had touched. Then