“Why, what else?” he said. And he stepped up to her, and put his arm around her. She felt the front of his body terribly near to her, and alive.

“Oh, not now, not now,” she cried, trying to push him away.

“Why not? It’s only six o’clock. You’ve got half an hour. Nay! Nay! I want you.”

He held her fast and she felt his urgency. Her old instinct was to fight for her freedom. But something else in her was strange and inert and heavy. His body was urgent against her, and she hadn’t the heart any more to fight.

He looked round.

“Come⁠—come here! Through here,” he said, looking penetratingly into the dense fir trees, that were young and not more than half-grown.