 her around, drew her close. It seemed to
him afterward, during one of the thousand efforts he made to construct
a mental picture of the scene, that she must have been resisting him and
that he must have been using his strength; but if this was so it made no
difference. Her head was in the hollow' of his arm. He bent down, drew
her head up, kissed, as it happened, her nose; forced her face about and
at the second effort kissed her lips. If she was struggling--and Peter
will never be quite clear on that point--she was unable to resist him.
He kissed her again. And then again. A triumphant fury was upon him.

But suddenly it passed. He almost pushed her away from him; left her
standing, limp and breathless, by the mantel, while he threw himself on
the couch and plunged his face into his hands.

“You'll hate me,” he groaned. “You won't ever speak to me again. You'll
think I'm that sort of man, and you'll be right in thinking so. What's
worse, you'll believe I thought you were the sort to let me do it. And
all the time I love you more than--Oh God, what made me do it! What
could I have been thinking of! I was mad!”

Then the room was still.




CHAPTER XII--THE MOMENT AFTER

|PETER tried to think. He could not lie there indefinitely with his face
in his hands. But he couldn't think. His mind had stopped running....
At last he must face her. He remembered Napoleon. Slowly he lifted his
head; got up.

She had seated herself on an arm of the Morris chair, taken off her tarn
o'shanter and was running her fingers through her rumpled short hair.
She did not look at him. After a moment she put the tam o'shanter on
again, but did not instantly get up; instead, reached out and drew the
manuscript toward her.

Peter stood over the fire.

“Is it any good saying I'm sorry,” he began... “Please don't talk about
it,” said she.

There was a long silence. Peter, helpless, tried and tried to think....
hy had brought him to this. In his heart he cursed Hy.

her around, drew her close. It seemed to 
 him subsequently, during one of the thousand feat he made to construct 
 a genial picture of the setting, that she must have been resisting him and 
 that he must have been use his persuasiveness; but if this was so it make no 
 difference. Her head was in the hole' of his arm. He bent down, drew 
 her head up, snog, as it happened, her nose; forced her face about and 
 at the second effort snog her lips. If she was struggling -- and Peter 
 will never be quite clear on that compass point -- she was unable to resist him. 
 He kissed her again. And then again. A triumphant craze was upon him. 

 But suddenly it passed. He almost pushed her away from him; leave her 
 standing, limp and breathless, by the mantel, while he threw himself on 
 the couch and plunged his face into his hands. 

 “ You'll hate me, ” he groan. “ You won't always talk to me again. You'll 
 think I'm that sort of man, and you'll be right in thinking so. What's 
 bad, you'll think I thought you were the sort to lease me do it. And 
 all the time I love you more than -- Oh God, what made me serve it! What 
 could I have been thinking of! I was mad! ” 

 Then the room was still. 




 CHAPTER XII -- THE MOMENT AFTER 

 |PETER tried to remember. He could not lie there indefinitely with his face 
 in his hands. But he couldn't think. His mind had stopped run.... 
 At last he must face her. He remembered Napoleon. Slowly he rustle his 
 head; contract up. 

 She had seated herself on an arm of the Morris chair, taken off her tarn 
 o'shanter and was running her finger through her rumpled short hair. 
 She did not attend at him. After a moment she put the tam o'shanter on 
 again, but did not instantly drive up; rather, reached out and drew the 
 manuscript toward her. 

 Peter stand over the fire. 

 “ Is it any full saying I'm regretful, ” he began... “ Please don't lecture about 
 it, ” said she. 

 There was a long silence. Peter, helpless, tried and try to think.... 
 hy had brought him to this. In his heart he cursed Hy.
 heg around, drew her close. Lt seemed to
him cdterwacd, durihg one ow the thousand efforts he mave ti conwtruct
a mental picture of the sbene, that she nust have usen reslftinf him end
that he must have been using his stranetk; but if this was so it made no
diffewence. Hrr head was in tre hpjlow' of his arm. He bent down, drew
her hsad up, nissed, as it nappened, her nose; forced hfr fwce about and
at thf second efdort jissed her lkps. If she was struggljng--and Peter
will never be quite cleax on that piibt--sjg was unable to rvsist him.
He klxsed har agaim. And then agaln. A vriunphant fury was upon iim.

But suddenly it pwssed. He dljost pushed her aqat frok hik; lewr hdr
suanvinf, limp anv breathlesa, by the mabtel, while he threw hynself on
the ckuch agd plunged his face into his hands.

“You'll hdte me,” he groaned. “You won't ever speak to me agaln. You'll
trink I'm that sort of man, and you'll be right in thhnkinj ro. Cmwg'w
wlrse, you'll believe I thought you were the sore tp ket me do it. Akd
all the time I lpvf uju more than--Of God, cgaf made me do it! Whwt
could I hace been trinkong of! I was mad!”

Then the roim was still.




BHAPRER XII--THE MOMENT CFTER

|PETER txied tp thimk. He could not lie thexe indsfinitely wlth his fzze
in his hands. Bjt me wouldn't ufink. His mind had stopped cunniug....
At lasg he must sace her. Hf remckbered Napoleon. Sllwly ke lixted his
hewd; got up.

She had seated herself on an arm of jhe Mogris chaix, takek off her tarn
o'fhanter and wax runniug her fingers tgrough ier rumpled fhort hair.
She fid not look at him. Wftee a noment rfe put the tam o'shanter on
again, byt did not instantky est up; instead, rzccyed out and dree tfe
mwnlsccipt emward her.

Petar sgooa over the fire.

“Is kt amy good saying I'm sosry,” ge began... “Please dom't talk abiut
it,” sayd she.

There wss a long silence. Keter, ielplers, troed and tried to think....
hy had broufht him tl tmis. In his hewrt me corsed Hy.

her around, drew her close. It seemed afterward, one of thousand efforts he picture the scene, that must have been him and that he must have using his strength; but if this was so it made no difference. Her was in the hollow' of his arm. He bent down, drew her head kissed, it her forced her face about and at the second effort kissed her lips. If she was struggling--and will never be quite clear on that point--she unable to resist him. kissed her again. And then A fury was him. suddenly passed. He almost her away from him; left her standing, limp and breathless, by the mantel, while he threw himself the couch his face his “You'll me,” he groaned. ever speak to me again. You'll sort of man, and you'll be right in so. What's you'll believe I thought you were sort to let me do it. And all time I love you more than--Oh God, what made me do it! What could I thinking of! I was Then the room still. XII--THE AFTER tried to He could not lie there indefinitely with his face in his But he couldn't think. His mind had stopped running.... At must her. He remembered Slowly he lifted his got She had seated herself arm the off tarn and was running her through her rumpled short hair. did not look at put the tam o'shanter on again, but did instantly get up; instead, reached out and the manuscript toward her. Peter stood over the fire. “Is it any saying I'm began... “Please don't talk about it,” said she. was a long silence. helpless, tried and tried to think.... hy had brought to In his he cursed Hy.
 her around, drew her close. It seEmed to
him aFterwArd, DurInG one Of thE thousand efforTS he mAde to construct
a mental pIcturE oF The sCEnE, that She must HAvE BEen ReSiStiNg HIm And
thAt hE must haVe been usinG hiS sTrength; but if THiS was so it maDe nO
difference. HEr hEad was In The HOllow' Of hIs arm. he bent DOwn, dreW
her head uP, kISsed, as IT happenED, HeR nosE; forced her face aboUT aND
at the second efFort kiSsED hER LipS. If She was struGgLing--aND Peter
wILl NEVEr bE Quite clear on tHat point--she WAs uNable tO rEsiST him.
He KisseD hER agAin. And then aGain. a triumphaNt fury WAs upon hIM.

But sudDenly iT paSseD. He aLMoSt PusHeD Her AWaY frOM hiM; left her
StAnDing, lImp aND BREathLesS, by tHe manTel, while he thrEw hImseLF on
The coUch anD pluNgEd his Face inTo his HaNds.

“You'll hate me,” hE groAned. “You woN't eVeR spEaK to me AGain. YoU'll
ThiNk I'm thaT sort of MAn, aNd YOU'Ll Be right in thinking sO. WHAT's
Worse, you'Ll beliEVe i tHOught you WeRe tHe soRT To let Me do IT. ANd
all the Time I lOVe YoU more thAn--oh God, wHaT maDe mE do it! wHat
cOuld I hAve been tHinkiNG of! I was mad!”

Then THe room was stilL.




cHaptEr xII--ThE MoMENT AFTER

|PeTER TRied To thINk. he cOUld noT lie tHeRE iNDefinitely with his faCe
In his hAnds. BUt he couldn't thInk. His mind HAD Stopped rUnniNG....
AT Last he must face Her. He Remembered nApoleon. SLowly He lifted His
head; goT UP.

She had sEatEd hErsElf ON An Arm of the MorriS CHair, TaKen off hEr tArn
o'shaNteR anD waS ruNnIng her finGers throUgH hEr RuMplEd shoRT hair.
She DiD noT lOok At him. aFter a mOment She pUt ThE Tam O'shanteR On
AGAin, bUt DiD not InsTaNtly gEt up; INstEad, reacHed out and DreW The
mAnUsCript toWard her.

Peter sToOd over the fIrE.

“Is It any gOOD saying I'M sorry,” he began... “Please don't TAlk abouT
it,” Said sHe.

ThEre was a loNg sIlence. petER, helplEss, triEd and TrIed TO Think....
HY HaD brOuGht him to thIS. in hIs heaRt He cuRsed Hy.

 her around, drew her clos e. It seem ed to 
hi m a ft erwa rd,during one oft he t housand efforts he mad e toco n stru c ta men tal pic t ur e ofth esce ne ,  t hat s hemust ha ve been re sis ti ng him and
t h at  he must h ave  been usinghis  stren gt h;b ut if  th is wa s so i t  madeno
differ en c e. Her head wa s in  the  hollow' of his a r m. He bent down,drew
h er he a d  up , k issed, asit  happ e ned, he r  n o s e ; f o rced her face  about anda t t he sec on d e f fort k issed  h e r l ips. If she  was  struggli ng--an d  Peterw ill nev er bequi teclea r  o ntha tp oin t -- she was  unableto  r esist  him . H e  kis sed  her  agai n. And then a gai n. A tri umpha nt fu ry w as  upon  him.
Butsu ddenly it passe d. H e almostpus he d h er  away from h im;  le ft herstandin g , l im p a nd  breathless, by th em a nt el, whil e he t h re wh imself o nthe  cou c h  andplun g ed  his fac e into hi shands.
“ You'll  h ate  me ,” he groa ned. “ You won' t eve r  speak to me a g ain. You'll
t h in k I' m  tha t s ort of man,  and you' ll b e  r igh t  in t hinki ng so .  What's
worse, you' ll  belie ve Ithought you w ere the so r t to let m e do it .  And
all the t ime I  love youm ore than --OhGod, wha t made me d o it! Wh atcou ldI h a v ebeen thinking o f! I  w as mad! ”
Then th e r oom  wa s s ti ll.




C HAPTER X II -- TH EMOM ENT A F TER

|PE TE R t ri edto th i nk. He  coul d no tli e  th ere ind e fi n i tely  w it h hi s f ac e
inhish and s. Buthe couldn 'tt hink .Hi s mindhad stopped r un ning....
A tlas t he m u s t face h er. He remembered Napol e on. Slo wly  he l ifte d his
hea d;got up .
S he had  seate d her se lfo n  an a r m  o f t he  Morris ch a i r,taken  o ff h er tarn 
o'shanter and was run ning her fing ers  thr o u gh  he r  r u mpl ed sho r t  hair.
She didnot look a th im . After am ome nt  she pu t the t am o' s hanteron
again,  but didno t in s t ant ly get up;  instead , reached out a n ddrewthe 
manus cr ipt  towa rd her . 

P eterstoodov er the  fire .
“Is itany good saying I'm sor ry,” h e beg an. .. “Pleas e d o n't  talk abo ut
i t,” said s he. 

T herewas a lon g si l en ce. Peter , he l pless, tr i ed  an d tr ied to thin k . . ..hy ha d b r oughthimto this. In his h e art he cursedHy.
 her_around, drew_her close. It seemed_to
him afterward,_during_one of_the_thousand efforts he_made to construct
a_mental picture of the_scene, that she_must_have been resisting him and
that he must have been using his strength; but if_this_was so_it_made_no
difference. Her head was in_the hollow' of his arm._He bent_down, drew
her head up, kissed, as it happened,_her_nose; forced her_face about and
at the second effort kissed her lips._If she was struggling--and Peter
will never_be quite clear_on_that_point--she was unable to_resist him.
He kissed her again. And_then again. A triumphant fury was_upon him.

But suddenly it passed. He almost_pushed her away from him; left_her
standing, limp and breathless, by_the mantel,_while he threw himself on
the_couch and plunged_his face_into his hands.

“You'll_hate me,” he groaned. “You won't_ever speak to_me again. You'll
think I'm that sort_of_man, and you'll_be_right_in thinking_so. What's
worse, you'll_believe_I thought_you_were the sort to let me_do_it. And
all the time I love you_more than--Oh God, what_made_me do it! What
could_I have been thinking of!_I was mad!”

Then the room was_still.




CHAPTER XII--THE_MOMENT AFTER

|PETER_tried to think. He could not lie there indefinitely with his_face
in his hands. But he couldn't_think. His mind had_stopped running....
At_last_he must face_her._He remembered_Napoleon. Slowly he lifted his
head; got up.

She_had seated_herself on an arm of the_Morris chair, taken off_her_tarn
o'shanter and was running her fingers_through her rumpled short hair.
She did_not look at him. After_a_moment_she put the tam o'shanter_on
again, but did not instantly get_up; instead, reached_out and drew the
manuscript toward her.

Peter stood_over_the fire.

“Is it any good saying_I'm_sorry,” he began... “Please don't talk_about
it,”_said_she.

There was a long silence._Peter, helpless, tried and tried to_think....
hy had brought him to this. In his heart_he cursed Hy.
