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"But--do let me go, Paul! I don't belong to you!"
"Yes you do--for a little while!" He held her close.
Belong to him! How she thrilled at the thought! Was this what it meant to be--loved? And _did_ she belong to him--if only, as he said, for a little while? She certainly didn't belong to herself! Whatever this madness that had suddenly taken possession of her, it was stronger than herself. She couldn't control it--she didn't even want to! At all events, she was _living_ to-night! Her blood was rus.h.i.+ng madly through her body. She was deliciously, thoroughly alive!
"Paul!--are you listening?"
"Yes, dear!" the answer strangely m.u.f.fled.
And then she purred in his ear, all the time caressing his cheek with her small white fingers: "You see, Paul, I knew I had made some sort of impression upon you. I must have done so or you wouldn't have--done that! But any girl can make an impression on s.h.i.+pboard, and an affair at sea is always so--evanescent, that no one expects it to last more than a week. I don't want to make such a transitory impression upon you, Paul. I wanted you to remember me longer. I wanted--oh, I wanted to give you something to remember that was just a little bit different than other girls had given you--some distinct impression that must linger with you--always--always! I'm not like other women! Do you see, Paul? It was all sheer vanity. I wanted you to remember!"
"And did you think I could forget?"
"Of course! All men forget a kiss as soon as their lips cease tingling!"
Paul laughed. "Wise girl! Who taught you so much? Come, confess!"
"Oh, I've known _you_ a whole week, Paul, and you----"
But their lips met again and the sentence was never finished.
At last she put her hands on each side of his face and looked up into his eyes.
"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Paul?"
"Of course not!"
"Of course you are!"
"You misunderstood me!--I said _'Not'_! But why? Are you ashamed of me?"
"I ought to be, oughtn't I? But--I don't believe you can help it!"
His lips crushed hers again, fiercely. "I can't, Opal--I can't!"
She turned away her head, but he buried his face in her neck, kissing the soft flesh again and again.
"Such a slip of a girl!" Paul murmured in her ear, when he again found his voice. "Such a tiny, little girl! I am almost afraid you will vanish if I don't hold you tight!"
Opal was thoroughly aroused now--no longer merely pa.s.sive--quite satisfactorily responsive.
"I won't, Paul! I won't! But hold me closer, closer! Crush this terrible ache out of my heart if you can, Paul!"
There were tears in her voice. He clasped her to him and felt her heart throbbing out its pain against its own, as he whispered, "Opal, am I a brute?"
"N-o-o-o-o!" A pause. At last, "Let me go now, Paul! This is sheer insanity!"
But he made no move to release her until she looked up into his eyes in an agony of appeal, and pleaded, "Please, Paul!"
"Are you sure you want to go?"
"No, I'm not sure of that, but I'm quite sure that I _ought_ to go! I must! I must!"
And Paul released her. Where was this madness carrying them? Was he acting the part of the man he meant to be, or of a cad--an unprincipled bounder? He did not know. He only knew he wanted to kiss her--_kiss_ her....
She turned on him in a sudden flash of indignation. "Why have you such power over me?" she demanded.
"What power over you, Opal!"
"What's the use of dodging the truth, you professor of honesty? You make me do things we both know I'll be sorry for all the rest of my life.
_Why_ do you do it?"
Her eyes blazed with a real anger that made her _piquante_ face more alluring than ever to the eyes of the infatuated Boy who watched her. He was fighting desperately for self-control, but if she should look at him as she had looked sometimes--!
"I can't understand it!" she exclaimed. "I always knew I was capable of being foolish--wicked, perhaps--for a _grande pa.s.sion_. I could forgive myself that, I think! But for a mere caprice--a _penchant_ like this!
Oh, Paul! what can you think of me?"
His voice was hoa.r.s.e--heavy with emotion.
"Think of you, Opal? I am sure you must know what I think. I've never had an opportunity to tell you--in so many words--but you must have seen what I have certainly taken no pains to conceal. Shall I try to tell you, Opal?"
"No, no! I don't want to hear a word--not a word! Do you understand? I forbid you!"
Paul bowed deferentially. She laughed nervously at the humility in his obeisance.
"Don't be ridiculous!" she commanded. "This is growing too melodramatic, and I hate a scene. But, really, Paul, you mustn't--simply mustn't!
There are reasons--conditions--and--you must not tell me, and I must not, _will_ not listen!"
"I mustn't make love to you, you mean?"
"I mean ... just that!"
"Why not?"
"Never mind the 'why.' There are plenty of good and sufficient reasons that I might give if I chose, but--I don't choose! The only reason that you need to know is--that I forbid you!"
She turned away with that regal air of hers that made one forget her child-like stature.
"Are you going, Opal?"
"Yes!--what did I come out here for? I can't remember. Do you know?"
"To wish me good-night, of course! And you haven't done it!"
She looked back over her shoulder, a mocking laugh in those inscrutable eyes. Then she turned and held out both hands to him.
"Good-night, Paul, good-night!... You seem able to do as you please with me, in spite of--everything--and I just want to stay in your arms forever--forever ..."