"Gerrit, I must speak to you," she implored.
"Yes, but I don't want to speak to you."
"Oh, but I must speak to you, Gerrit!" murmured the languorous, maddening voice. "I must, I must speak to you. Not here, but just . . . just inside the Woods."
"What do you want to speak to me about?"
"Only for a second . . . . I can't tell you here."
"Well, no, d'you see?" said Gerrit, roughly. I don't want to have anything to do with you.
"Yes, yes, Gerrit. . . . Please, Gerrit . . . only for a second. . . ."
And he walked on.
She followed him:
"Gerrit . . ."
"I say, if you don't hurry up and clear out . . . !"
"Gerrit, just let me tell you something . . . let me speak to you for three minutes . . . in the Woods. . . ."
The voice coaxed him and he saw that deep glint of mockery in the laughing eyes.
"Only for three minutes . . . and then I sha'n't worry you any more . . ."
"Well . . . go ahead then!" said Gerrit. "You go on. . . . I'll follow you. . . . But be quick . . . I've no time. . . ."
