As though fire passed through her, she sprang to
her feet and stood with panting bosom, her flashing eyes bright with the
multi-coloured pictures that his magic presented.
Oliver Haddo stood too, and they faced one another. Then, on a sudden,
she knew what the passion was that consumed her. With a quick movement,
his eyes more than ever strangely staring, he took her in his arms, and
he kissed her lips. She surrendered herself to him voluptuously. Her
whole body burned with the ecstasy of his embrace.
'I think I love you,' she said, hoarsely.
She looked at him. She did not feel ashamed.
'Now you must go,' he said.
He opened the door, and, without another word, she went. She walked
through the streets as if nothing at all had happened. She felt neither
remorse nor revulsion.
Then Margaret felt every day that uncontrollable desire to go to him;
and, though she tried to persuade herself not to yield, she knew that her
effort was only a pretence: she did not want anything to prevent her.
When it seemed that some accident would do so, she could scarcely control
her irritation.
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