And I pressed her.
"But what?" I repeated.
"I was going to say, I have no wish to make your life harder than it
is. I do not want our engagement to impose impossible laws upon you,
nor do I set up an imaginary standard for you. You have your honour
and your own self-respect, and I know I shall always be satisfied
with the standard you raise for yourself."
The voice was very soft, and her touch and eyes caressing. She had
not said in the least what I had expected, and she had touched, as
she always did in me, the best springs in my thoughts. Her own
pride, and her unquestioning assumption of mine, stung all that I
had.
"Even you, Lucia, could not have a higher!" I answered on the
impulse.
She smiled.
"That is exactly what I say," she said, and the smile went on into a
slight laugh. "When will you come again to sit for Hyacinthus?"
"To-morrow, at the same time! Will that do?"
"Yes. It's immensely good of you. How can I thank you?"
I looked down at the red lips, at the delightful neck and shoulders,
for a second in silence, then I pressed her hand, whistled to Nous,
and went out. As soon as I had passed down the stairs and reached
the street the bitter rush of feelings that the sight of this girl
roused in me, and that her actual presence held in check, swept over
me unrestrained. Why had I left her like that? I asked myself
savagely.
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