He took it into his great brown one, and though his touch was wholly
gentle she felt the force of the man throbbing behind it, and it seemed
to surge all around and within her.
He stood for a second as if irresolute or uncertain how to treat her.
Then, with a wordless sound that needed no interpretation, he pushed
back the sleeve from the place whence he had sucked the poison. It showed
only a little red now. He bent very low until his lips pressed it again.
Then for one burning moment they neither moved nor breathed.
The next thing that Dot realized was the passing of his great figure
through the doorway out of her sight. She saw him don his slouch hat as
he went.
* * * * *
She cleared the table again and sat down to her work. But somehow all
energy had gone from her. A great lassitude hung upon her. Perhaps it was
caused by the heat, or possibly by the whisky he had made her drink.
There was no resisting it. It pressed her down like a physical weight.
She gave herself up to it at last, and leaning back in her chair like a
tired child she slept.
Robin lay at her feet. The afternoon crawled away. Like the enchanted
princess of old, she reclined in a slumber so deep that life itself
seemed to be suspended.
The sun began to slant towards the west, and the pastures took on a
golden look. The lambs gambolled together with shrill bleatings.
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