"You're going to leave me. You--you don't want me for a friend any
longer."

Her lips trembled--the red little lips that always reminded him of
a baby's with its Cupid's bow. She was on the verge of breaking
down. Jeff could not stand that. He held out his hands, intending
to take hers and explain that he was not angry or disappointed at
her. But somehow he found her in his arms instead, supple and
warm, vital youth flowing in the soft cheeks' rich coloring and in
the eyes quick and passionate with the tender abandon of her sex.

He set his teeth against the rush of desire that flooded him as
her soft body clung to his. The emotional climax he had vaguely
feared had leaped upon them like an uncaged tiger. He fought to
stamp down the fires that blazed up in him. Time to think--he must
have time to think.

"You don't despise me then," she cried softly, a little catch in
her breath.

"No," he protested, and again "No."

"But you think I've done wrong."

"No. I've been to blame. You're a dear girl--and I've abused your
kindness. I must go away--now."

"Then you--you do hate me," she accused with a quivering lip.