"Perhaps they haven't got anything," Jenny said. And after a painful
pause: "Oh, well: I shall have to be going home." She wearily moved, in
absolute despair, perhaps even with the notion of rising, though her
mind was in turmoil.

"Jenny!" He held her wrist, preventing any further movement. He was
looking at her with an urgent gaze. Then, violently, with a rapid
motion, he came nearer, and forced his arm behind Jenny's waist, drawing
her close against his breast, her face averted until their cheeks
touched, when the life seemed to go out of Jenny's body and she moved
her head quickly in resting it on his shoulder, Keith's face against her
hair, and their two hearts beating quickly. It was done in a second, and
they sat so, closely embraced, without speech. Still Jenny's hands were
free, as if they had been lifeless. Time seemed to stand still, and
every noise to stop, during that long moment. And in her heart Jenny was
saying over and over, utterly hopeless, "It's no good; it's no good;
it's no good...." Wretchedly she attempted to press herself free, her
elbow against Keith's breast. She could not get away; but each flying
instant deepened her sense of bitter failure.

"It's no use," she said at last, in a dreadful murmur. "You don't want
me a bit. Far better let me go."

Keith loosed his hold, and she sat away from him with a little sigh that
was almost a shudder. Her hands went as if by instinct to her hair,
smoothing it. Another instinct, perhaps, made her turn to him with the
ghost of a reassuring smile.

"Silly, we've been," she said, huskily. "I've been thinking about you