"Wrong?" he exclaimed. "Nothing under heaven would be more just. What are laws in the face of a passion like ours? In the new socialistic state there will be no such laws. And whatever would be right and of good conscience then is right and of good conscience now, in spite of all the capitalistic laws that were ever invented to oppress humanity."
He moved still closer to her, and took up her hand which was hanging loosely at her side, and held it and caressed it. She made no remonstrance; she did not appear to notice what he was doing. It was plain to him that this woman who had held him in check and at bay for months was at last ready to yield to his importunities.
"That would be heavenly," she said, and she seemed to be talking to herself rather than to him, "heavenly! But we would need to hide it; we would have to keep it secret—for a time."
His face was so close to hers that she might have felt his breath upon her cheek.
"No, dear," he answered her, "we do not need to hide it. People who know us and believe in us, and for whose opinions we care, will not criticize us; all others may do so to their heart's content. It will not matter to us; we shall be supremely happy in spite of them."
He passed his arm around her shoulders and drew her face against his.
Then, suddenly, she awoke. She threw his arm from her as if it had been a serpent coiled about her body. She wrenched herself free from him, and sprang to her feet. In the excitement her chair was overturned and fell with a crash to the floor. The door leading from the kitchen was pushed open from without, and an old woman, with frightened eyes, looked in.
"What's the matter, Mary?" she asked.
"Nothing, mother. Everything's all right; come in."
Lamar picked up the chair, and stood with flushed and scowling face.
