He had been fighting against the words that would come in spite of him.
He halted now because the food of emotion suffocated speech. He stood
before her, ghastly pale and trembling. She did not draw back. She
seemed compelled by his will, by the force of his passion, to stay where
she was. But in her eyes was a fascinated terror--a fear of him--of the
passion that dominated him, a passion like the devils that made men gash
themselves and leap from precipices into the sea. To unaccustomed eyes
the first sight of passion is always terrifying and is usually
repellent. One must learn to adventure the big wave, the great hissing,
towering billow that conceals behind its menace the wild rapture of
infinite longing realized.

"I have frightened you?" he said.

"Yes," was her whispered reply.

"But it is your dream come true."

She shrank back--not in aversion, but gently. "No--it isn't my dream,"
she replied.

"You don't realize it yet, but you will."

She shook her head positively. "I couldn't ever think of you in that
way."

He did not need to ask why. She had already explained when they were
talking of Tetlow. There was a finality in her tone that filled him with
despair. It was his turn to look at her in terror. What power this slim
delicate girl had over him! What a price she could exact if she but