." It was the merest whisper, reaching his ears like the touch of a butterfly's wing--hesitantly shy, and honey-sweet with the promise of summer.
The next instant his arms were round her and he was holding her as though he would never let her go, passionately kissing the soft mouth, so close beneath his own.

He lifted her off her feet, crushing her to him, and Diana, the woman in her definitely, vividly aroused at last, clung to him yielding, but half-terrified by the tempest of emotion she had waked.
"My beloved!.

.

.

_My soul_!" His voice was vehement with the love and passion at length unleashed from bondage; his kisses hurt her.