her arms round his neck, so that he staggered. Prokop crushed her in his arms; a long breathless embrace, and her body, stretched taut like a bow, collapsed softly and helplessly against him. She lay on his breast with closed eyes. Sweet and meaningless phrases came from her lips; she allowed her face, neck and hair to be covered with his violent kisses, moving her head as if she were intoxicated and did not know what she was doing. Submissive, half swooning, utterly tender; perhaps happy at this moment with an inexpressible happiness. O God, what a trembling and lovely smile there was on her lips!
Suddenly she opened her eyes widely and slipped out of his embrace. They were two yards away from the main avenue. She passed her hands over her face, like a person awakening from a dream, moved away, and leaned her forehead against the trunk of an oak. Scarcely had Prokop released her from his rough hands than his heart began to beat violently with emotion, with an emotion of shame and degradation. Christ! for her he was only a servant whom she used to excite her emotions when she had nothing better to do, when she was unable to bear her solitude, or something of the sort. Now she had kicked him away, like a dog, so that . . . she could do the same thing again with somebody else. He went up to her and put his hand firmly on her shoulder. She turned round gently with a shy, almost frightened and humiliated smile. “No, no,” she whispered, twisting her fingers. “Please, not”
Prokop’s heart swelled with a sudden wave of
