It seemed to
him in that moment of intense emotion that he could read there
everything he desired in life. Her lips met his almost eagerly, met his
and gave of their own free will.
"Andrew," she murmured, "you see, you are the only man except those of
my family whom I have ever kissed, and I kiss you now--again--and
again--because I love you."
CHAPTER XVIII
Tallente, notwithstanding the glow of happiness which had taken him down
to Westminster with the bearing of a young man, felt occasional little
shivers of doubt as he leaned back in his seat during the intervals of a
brief but portentous debate and let his mind wander back to that short
hour when he seemed to have emptied out all the hidden yearnings which
had been lurking in the dark corners of his heart and soul. His love
for Jane had no longer the boyish characteristics of a vague worship.
He made no further pretences to himself. It was Jane herself, and not
the spirit of her sex dwelling in her body, which he desired. A tardy
heritage of passion at times rejuvenated him and at others stretched him
upon the rack.
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