Why do I want him so badly? Why do I want him, and think about him, and fail to get away from him? “It isn’t all of me. She did not try to approach him. It seemed to him that a sort of mist had risen up between them. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. She was, she guessed, close to the library. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. Death belongs to God, young man. She has power over men’s fates in more ways than one. Wood; but they never come now.
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