ANGEL PAVEMENT

"Because I don't, and that's why. If I don't want to
sec you, why don't you go away and stop away? I don't
want you hanging about me and coming slinking in
here, looking like nothing on earth. Just because I felt
sorry for you once and hadn't anything much to do and
was nice to you, do you think I've got to spend all my
time trailing round to the pictures with you?"

"But, Lena, listen—"

"I tell you, I won't listen. I don't want to hear. If
you only saw yourself! Go away. I won't listen. I didn't
want to be rude to you, but you're so stupid and you
just make me look silly too."

"Lena, please, please, just listen a minute—"

"Oh, go away, can't you! Fool!"

"You'll have to listen," he screamed. He sprang for-
ward, dropping his hat, and seized both her wrists and
held them tight. As she struggled to break loose, he
poured it all out in a wild unbroken rush of short
phrases, the whole story of his first distant adoration, his
desire and his passion, all the ecstasies and miseries of
his love. As he came to the end, his grasp suddenly
slackened and she was able to free her wrists. She had
not listened to him. She was in a fury.

"You damned rotten rotten—" she gasped, fighting
for breath. Then she flared up into a shriek: "Keep your
filthy hands off me," and she flung her own hands into
his face, pushing him away.

Things were snapping inside him now like taut fiddle-
strings. "All right, I'll kiss you for that," he cried, and
caught "Hold of her before she could get away. He was
not a muscular youth, but he was strong enough now.
He pressed her body to his and forced a few brief kisses
upon her before she had a chance to do anything but