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XVII
They had passed without a single word spoken； down through the
laurels and guelder roses to the river bank； then he had turned to
the right； and gone along it under the dove…house； to the yew…
trees。 There he had stopped； in the pitch darkness of that
foliage。 It seemed to her dreadfully still； if only there had been
the faintest breeze； the faintest lisping of reeds on the water；
one bird to make a sound； but nothing； nothing save his breathing；
deep； irregular； with a quiver in it。 What had he brought her here
for？ To show her how utterly she was his？ Was he never going to
speak； never going to say whatever it was he had in mind to say？
If only he would not touch her！
Then he moved； and a stone dislodged fell with a splash into the
water。 She could not help a little gasp。 How black the river
looked！ But slowly； beyond the dim shape of the giant poplar； a
shiver of light stole outwards across the blackness from the far
bankthe moon； whose rim she could now see rising； of a thick gold
like a coin； above the woods。 Her heart went out to that warm
light。 At all events there was one friendly inhabitant of this
darkness。
Suddenly she felt his hands on her waist。 She did not move； her
heart beat too furiously； but a sort of prayer fluttered up from it
against her lips。 In the grip of those heavy hands was such
quivering force！
His voice sounded very husky and strange： 〃Olive； this can't go on。
I suffer。 My God！ I suffer！〃
A pang went through her； a sort of surprise。 Suffer！ She might
wish him dead； but she did not want him to sufferGod knew！ And
yet； gripped by those hands； she could not say： I am sorry！
He made a sound that was almost a groan； and dropped on his knees。
Feeling herself held fast； she tried to push his forehead back from
her waist。 It was fiery hot； and she heard him mutter： 〃Have
mercy！ Love me a little！〃 But the clutch of his hands； never
still on the thin silk of her dress； turned her faint。 She tried
to writhe away； but could not； stood still again； and at last found
her voice。
〃Mercy？ Can I MAKE myself love？ No one ever could since the world
began。 Please； please get up。 Let me go！〃
But he was pulling her down to him so that she was forced on to her
knees on the grass； with her face close to his。 A low moaning was
coming from him。 It was horribleso horrible！ And he went on
pleading； the words all confused； not looking in her face。 It
seemed to her that it would never end； that she would never get
free of that grip； away from that stammering； whispering voice。
She stayed by instinct utterly still； closing her eyes。 Then she
felt his gaze for the first time that evening on her face； and
realized that he had not dared to look until her eyes were closed；
for fear of reading what was in them。 She said very gently：
〃Please let me go。 I think I'm going to faint。〃
He relaxed the grip of his arms； she sank down and stayed unmoving
on the grass。 After such utter stillness that she hardly knew
whether he were there or not； she felt his hot hand on her bare
shoulder。 Was it all to begin again？ She shrank down lower still；
and a little moan escaped her。 He let her go suddenly； and； when
at last she looked up； was gone。
She got to her feet trembling； and moved quickly from under the
yew…trees。 She tried to thinktried to understand exactly what
this portended for her； for him； for her lover。 But she could not。
There was around her thoughts the same breathless darkness that
brooded over this night。 Ah！ but to the night had been given that
pale…gold moon…ray； to herself nothing； no faintest gleam； as well
try to pierce below the dark surface of that water！
She passed her hands over her face； and hair； and dress。 How long
had it lasted？ How long had they been out here？ And she began
slowly moving back towards the house。 Thank God！ She had not
yielded to fear or pity； not uttered falsities； not pretended she
could love him； and betrayed her heart。 That would have been the
one unbearable thing to have been left remembering！ She stood long
looking down； as if trying to see the future in her dim flower…
beds； then； bracing herself； hurried to the house。 No one was on
the veranda； no one in the drawing…room。 She looked at the clock。
Nearly eleven。 Ringing for the servant to shut the windows； she
stole up to her room。 Had her husband gone away as he had come？
Or would she presently again be face to face with that dread； the
nerve of which never stopped aching now； dread of the night when he
was near？ She determined not to go to bed； and drawing a long
chair to the window； wrapped herself in a gown； and lay back。
The flower from her dress； miraculously uncrushed in those dark
minutes on the grass； she set in water beside her at the window
Mark's favourite flower； he had once told her； it was a comfort；
with its scent； and hue； and memory of him。
Strange that in her life； with all the faces seen； and people
known； she had not loved one till she had met Lennan！ She had even
been sure that love would never come to her； had not wanted it
very much； had thought to go on well enough； and pass out at the
end； never having known； or much cared to know； full summer。 Love
had taken its revenge on her now for all slighted love offered her
in the past； for the one hated love that had to…night been on its
knees to her。 They said it must always come once to every man and
womanthis witchery； this dark sweet feeling； springing up； who
knew how or why？ She had not believed； but now she knew。 And
whatever might be coming； she would not have this different。 Since
all things changed； she must change and get old and be no longer
pretty for him to look at； but this in her heart could not change。
She felt sure of that。 It was as if something said： This is for
ever； beyond life； beyond death； this is for ever！ He will be
dust； and you dust； but your love will live！ Somewherein the
woods； among the flowers； or down in the dark water； it will haunt！
For it only you have lived！ 。 。 。 Then she noticed that a slender
silvery…winged thing； unlike any moth she had ever seen； had
settled on her gown； close to her neck。 It seemed to be sleeping；
so delicate and drowsy； having come in from the breathless dark；
thinking； perhaps； that her whiteness was a light。 What dim memory
did it rouse； something of HIM； something HE had donein darkness；
on a night like this。 Ah； yes！ that evening after Gorbio； the
little owl…moth on her knee！ He had touched her when he took that
cosy wan velvet…eyed thing off her！
She leaned out for air。 What a night！whose stars were hiding in
the sheer heavy warmth； whose small； round； golden moon had no
transparency！ A night like a black pansy with a little gold heart。
And silent！ For； of the trees； that whispered so much at night；
not even the aspens had voice。 The unstirring air had a dream…
solidity against her cheeks。 But in all the stillness； what
sentiency； what passionas in her heart！ Could she not draw HIM
to her from those woods； from that dark gleaming river； draw him
from the flowers and trees and the passion…mood of