She hated him, but she was sorry
for him, too. He would have to be so humble. She was staring ahead,
white and waiting for his explanation, when he released the brake
and started the car forward slowly.
"Well?" he said, with a faint smile.
"You will have to apologize for that, Mr. Akers."
"I'm damned if I will. That man back there, Denslow--he's the sort
who would kiss a girl and then crawl about it afterwards. I won't.
I'm not sorry. A strong man can digest his own sins. I kissed you
because I wanted to. It wasn't an impulse. I meant to when we
started. And you're only doing the conventional thing and pretending
to be angry. You're not angry. Good God, girl, be yourself once in
a while."
"I'm afraid I don't understand you." Her voice was haughty. "And I
must ask you to stop the car and let me get out."
"I'll do nothing of the sort, of course. Now get this straight,
Miss Cardew. I haven't done you any harm. I may have a brutal way
of showing that I'm crazy about you, but it's my way. I'm a man,
and I'm no hand kisser."
And when she said nothing:
"You think I'm unrestrained, and I am, in a way. But if I did what
I really want to do, I'd not take you home at all.
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