He went to her.
Ethel spoke to him for the first time softly, languorously, almost
caressingly:
"Chris! Sometime--perhaps in the dead of night--something will snap
in me--the slack, selfish, luxurious ME, that hates to be roused
into action, and the craving for adventure will come. Then I'll send
for you."
He took her hand again and this time she did not draw it away. He
said in a whisper:
"And you'll go with me?"
Ethel stretched lazily, and smiled at him through her half-closed
eyes.
"I suppose so. Then Heaven help you!"
"Why should we wait?" he cried.
"It will give us the suspense of expectation."
"I want you! I need you!" he pleaded.
"Until the time comes for AMPUTATION?"
"Don't! Don't!" and he dropped her hand suddenly.
"Well, I don't want you to have any illusions about me, Chris. I
have none about you. Let us begin fair anyway. It will be so much
easier when the end comes."
"There will be no end," he said passionately. "I love you--love you
with every breath of my body, every thought in my mind, every throb
of my nerves. I love you!" He kissed her hand repeatedly. "I love
you!" He took her in his arms and pressed her to him.
She struggled with him without any anger, or disgust, or fear.
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