"What on earth are you gone wild about, Miss Don't Care?"
She flung herself backwardsviolently, her head going over the back

of the chair. And now it was her smooth, full, palpitating throat
that lay exposed to my bewildered stare. Her eyes were nearly

closed, with only a horrible white gleam under the lids as if she
were dead.

"What has come to you?" I asked in awe. "What are you terrifying
yourself with?"

She pulled herself together, her eyes open frightfully wide now.
The tropical afternoon was lengthening the shadows on the hot,

weary earth, the abode of obscure desires, of extravagant hopes, of
unimaginable terrors.

"Never mind! Don't care!" Then, after a gasp, she spoke with such
frightful rapidity that I could hardly make out the amazing words:

"For if you were to shut me up in an empty place as smooth all
round as the palm of my hand, I could always strangle myself with

my hair."
For a moment, doubting my ears, I let this inconceivable

declaration sink into me. It is ever impossible to guess at the
wild thoughts that pass through the heads of our fellow-creatures.

What monstrous imaginings of violence could have dwelt under the
low forehead of that girl who had been taught to regard her father

as "capable of anything" more in the light of a misfortune than
that of a disgrace; as, evidently, something to be resented and

feared rather than to be ashamed of? She seemed, indeed, as
unaware of shame as of anything else in the world; but in her

ignorance, her resentment and fear took a childish and violent
shape.

Of course she spoke without knowing the value of words. What could
she know of death - she who knew nothing of life? It was merely as

the proof of her being beside herself with some odious
apprehension, that this extraordinary speech had moved me, not to

pity, but to a fascinated, horrified wonder. I had no idea what
notion she had of her danger. Some sort of abduction. It was

quite possible with the talk of that atrocious old woman. Perhaps
she thought she could be carried off, bound hand and foot and even

gagged. At that surmise I felt as if the door of a furnace had
been opened in front of me.

"Upon my honour!" I cried. "You shall end by going crazy if you
listen to that abominable old aunt of yours - "

I studied her haggard expression, her trembling lips. Her cheeks
even seemed sunk a little. But how I, the associate of her

disreputable father, the "lowest of the low" from the criminal
Europe, could manage to reassure her I had no conception. She was

exasperating.
"Heavens and earth! What do you think I can do?"

"I don't know."
Her chin certainly trembled. And she was looking at me with

extreme attention. I made a step nearer to her chair.
"I shall do nothing. I promise you that. Will that do? Do you

understand? I shall do nothing whatever, of any kind; and the day
after to-morrow I shall be gone."

What else could I have said? She seemed to drink in my words with
the thirsty avidity with which she had emptied the glass of water.

She whispered tremulously, in that touching tone I had heard once
before on her lips, and which thrilled me again with the same

motion" target="_blank" title="n.感情；情绪；激动">emotion:
"I would believe you. But what about papa - "

"He be hanged!" My motion" target="_blank" title="n.感情；情绪；激动">emotion betrayed itself by the brutality of my
tone. "I've had enough of your papa. Are you so stupid as to

imagine that I am frightened of him? He can't make me do
anything."

All that sounded feeble to me in the face of her ignorance. But I
must conclude that the "accent of sincerity" has, as some people

say, a really resistible" target="_blank" title="a.不可抵抗的">irresistible power. The effect was far beyond my
hopes, - and even beyond my conception. To watch the change in the

girl was like watching a miracle - the gradual but swift relaxation
of her tense glance, of her stiffened muscles, of every fibre of

her body. That black, fixed stare into which I had read a tragic
meaning more than once, in which I had found a sombre seduction,

was perfectly empty now, void of all consciousnesswhatever, and
not even aware any longer of my presence; it had become a little

sleepy, in the Jacobus fashion.
But, man being a perverse animal, instead of rejoicing at my

complete success, I beheld it with astounded and indignant eyes.
There was something cynical in that unconcealed alteration, the

true Jacobus shamelessness. I felt as though I had been cheated in
some rather complicated deal into which I had entered against my

better judgment. Yes, cheated without any regard for, at least,
the forms of decency.

With an easy, indolent, and in its indolence supple, feline
movement, she rose from the chair, so provokingly ignoring me now,

that for very rage I held my ground within less than a foot of her.
Leisurely and tranquil, behaving right before me with the ease of a

person alone in a room, she extended her beautiful arms, with her
hands clenched, her body swaying, her head thrown back a little,

revelling contemptuously" target="_blank" title="ad.蔑视地；傲慢地">contemptuously in a sense of relief, easing her limbs in
freedom after all these days of crouching, motionless" target="_blank" title="a.静止的；固定的">motionless poses when

she had been so furious and so afraid.
All this with supremeindifference, incredible, offensive,

exasperating, like ingratitude doubled with treachery.
I ought to have been flattered, perhaps, but, on the contrary, my

anger grew; her movement to pass by me as if I were a wooden post
or a piece of furniture, that unconcerned movement brought it to a

head.
I won't say I did not know what I was doing, but, certainly, cool

reflection had nothing to do with the circumstance that next moment
both my arms were round her waist. It was an impulsive action, as

one snatches at something falling or escaping; and it had no
hypocritical gentleness about it either. She had no time to make a

sound, and the first kiss I planted on her closed lips was vicious
enough to have been a bite.

She did not resist, and of course I did not stop at one. She let
me go on, not as if she were inanimate - I felt her there, close

against me, young, full of vigour, of life, a strong desirable
creature, but as if she did not care in the least, in the absolute

assurance of her safety, what I did or left undone. Our faces
brought close together in this storm of haphazard caresses, her

big, black, wide-open eyes looked into mine without the girl
appearing either angry or pleased or moved in any way. In that

steady gaze which seemed impersonally to watch my madness I could
detect a slight surprise, perhaps - nothing more. I showered

kisses upon her face and there did not seem to be any reason why
this should not go on for ever.

That thought flashed through my head, and I was on the point of
desisting, when, all at once, she began to struggle with a sudden

violence which all but freed her instantly, which revived my
exasperation with her, indeed a fierce desire never to let her go

any more. I tightened my embrace in time, gasping out: "No - you
don't!" as if she were my mortal enemy. On her part not a word was

said. Putting her hands against my chest, she pushed with all her
might without succeeding to break the circle of my arms. Except

that she seemed thoroughly awake now, her eyes gave me no clue
whatever. To meet her black stare was like looking into a deep

well, and I was totally unprepared for her change of tactics.
Instead of trying to tear my hands apart, she flung herself upon my

breast and with a downward, undulating, serpentine motion, a quick
sliding dive, she got away from me smoothly. It was all very

swift; I saw her pick up the tail of her wrapper and run for the
door at the end of the verandah not very gracefully. She appeared

to be limping a little - and then she vanished; the door swung
behind her so noiselessly that I could not believe it was

completely closed. I had a distinctsuspicion of her black eye
being at the crack to watch what I would do. I could not make up

my mind whether to shake my fist in that direction or blow a kiss.
CHAPTER VI