THE WINDOW OF THE SPHINX
wager. What could he say, since something must be said? That consciousness she had of him, the curious dread that tied her tongue, gave him a sense. of power over her. Why not ask her now, while she was trembling, relaxed, expectant of something he did not know of—sweep the whole story out of her? Yes, this was the moment!
He got to his feet. With the movement, the motion of her hands stopped. They held the work up nervously. Her head lifted, dropped back a little. She did not look at him. He started toward her with still the blind impulse to demand the horse. Where that intention went he did not know. He reached her and she was on her feet. Had she risen to meet him, or had he drawn her up by the hands? He did not know. Her hands were in his, both hands in his one. At the touch other thought slipped away from him. He knew himself trembling, and was amazed. With the first breath of her hair—that faint, sweet, personal perfume—he understood the adventure was perilous. He felt the noose of the charm descending upon him. He felt, before he touched her lips, the approach of an unknown emotion. He saw himself in her eyes, before they kissed.
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