"God!" she heard him mutter.

For a space the throb of the motor was the only sound that broke the
stillness, but presently, after what seemed an eternity, he raised her
from the floor, where she still knelt inertly, and set her on the seat
again. She submitted passively.

When he had resumed his place, he spoke in dry, level tones.

"I suppose I'm damned beyond forgiveness after this?"

She made no answer. She was listening with a curious fascination to the
throb of her heart and the measured beat of the engine; the two seemed to
meet and mingle into one great pulse, thundering against her tired brain.

"Diana"--he spoke again, still in the same toneless voice--"am I to be
forbidden even the outskirts of your life now?"

She moved her head restlessly.

"I don't know--oh, I don't know," she whispered.

She was utterly spent and exhausted. Unconsciously every nerve in her
had responded to the fierce passion of that suffocating kiss, and now
that the tense moment was over she felt drained of all vitality. Her
head drooped listlessly against the cushions of the car and dark shadows
stained her cheeks beneath the wide-opened eyes--eyes that held the
startled, frightened expression of one who has heard for the first time
the beat of Passion's wings.