Mr.Knight had had enough of it.

Had he really left without a word?
Was she, then, so little to him as that?
She, who had clung to him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was hers! She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was moonshine, love would pass.

And how passionately--and withal how fruitlessly!--had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She had declared that such was not love, and he--he had warned her against loving too well, giving too freely.

With cruel distinctness it all came back to her.

She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and throat.