I may have to die, but I'll die standing." His eyes gleamed now, and for
the first time they turned from her and roamed over the prospect that lay
below Duty Hill. But they were back on her face soon.
"No, no," she implored. "Not because of me, for heaven's sake, not
because of me!"
"Because of it all. Yes, and because of you too. You don't love me, you
never have." He leant towards her. "But I love you," he said, "yes, as I
loved you when I asked you to be my wife on this hill where we are. Then
don't you understand? I won't go and live that old cat's life with you."
He laid his hand on hers. "Your eyes shall still sparkle for me, your
breath shall still come quick for me, your heart beat for me; or I'll
have no more of it at all."
The touch of rhetoric, so characteristic of him, so unlike anything that
Marchmont or Dick Benyon would have used in such a case, did not
displease her then. And it hit the truth as his penetration was wont to
hit it. That was what he wanted, that was what she could and should and
must give, or he would have nothing from her.
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