〃We will go and have some supper。〃
He was now always quiet and decided and remote; very
beautiful。 He seemed to have some strange; cold power over
her。
They went to a restaurant; and drank chianti。 But his pale;
wan look did not go away。
〃Dont leave me to…night;〃 he said at length; looking at her;
pleading。 He was so strange and impersonal; she was afraid。
〃But the people of my place;〃 she said; quivering。
〃I will explain to them……they know we are engaged。〃
She sat pale and mute。 He waited。
〃Shall we go?〃 he said at length。
〃Where?〃
〃To an hotel。〃
Her heart was hardened。 Without answering; she rose to
acquiesce。 But she was now cold and unreal。 Yet she could not
refuse him。 It seemed like fate; a fate she did not want。
They went to an Italian hotel somewhere; and had a sombre
bedroom with a very large bed; clean; but sombre。 The ceiling
was painted with a bunch of flowers in a big medallion over the
bed。 She thought it was pretty。
He came to her; and cleaved to her very close; like steel
cleaving and clinching on to her。 Her passion was roused; it was
fierce but cold。 But it was fierce; and extreme; and good; their
passion this night。 He slept with her fast in his arms。 All
night long he held her fast against him。 She was passive;
acquiscent。 But her sleep was not very deep nor very real。
She woke in the morning to a sound of water dashed on a
courtyard; to sunlight streaming through a lattice。 She thought
she was in a foreign country。 And Skrebensky was there an
incubus upon her。
She lay still; thinking; whilst his arm was round her; his
head against her shoulders; his body against hers; just behind
her。 He was still asleep。
She watched the sunshine ing in bars through the
persiennes; and her immediate surroundings again melted
away。