been born in unknown places, and was a woman unknown to herself.
Yet surely, surely he was only putting his will over her?
She was breathless with amazement, because he had made her see the physical possibility of marrying him: a thing she had never even glimpsed before. But surely, surely it would not be herself who could marry him. It would be some curious female within her, whom she did not know and did not own.
He was emanating a dark, exultant sort of passion.
“I can’t believe,” she said, “that I could do it.”
“Do it,” he said. “And then you will know.”
She shuddered slightly, and went indoors for a wrap. She came out again in a silk Spanish shawl, brown, but deeply embroidered in silver-coloured silk. She tangled her fingers nervously in the