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Updated: May 27, 2025
And at that movement, wholly involuntary as it was, something in Merryon's brain seemed to burst. He saw all things a burning, intolerable red. With a strangled oath he caught her back, held her violently a prisoner in his arms. "By God, no!" he said. "I'll kill you first!" She turned in his embrace. She lifted her lips and passionately kissed him. "Yes, kill me! Kill me!" she cried to him.
It was naïvely spoken, so naïvely that Merryon's faint smile turned into something that was almost genial. What a youngster she was! Her freshness was a perpetual source of wonder to him when he remembered whence she had come to him. "I am quite willing to be taught," he said. "But it must be in strict privacy." She nodded gaily. "Of course.
The visitor, still clad in his great-coat, crouched like a dog on the hearthrug before the fire in Merryon's sitting-room, and gazed with wide, unblinking eyes into the flames. After a few moments Merryon's eyes descended to the dark head and surveyed it critically. The collar of his coat was turned up all round it.
"Don't, Billikins! Please please, Billikins!" she begged, incoherently. "You promised you promised " "What did I promise?" he said. "That you wouldn't wouldn't" she spoke breathlessly, for his hold was tightening upon her "gobble me up," she ended, with a painful little laugh. "I see." Merryon's voice was deep and low. "And you meantime are at liberty to play any fool game you like with me.
They talked very little, for Merryon's strength was terribly low, and Macfarlane, still scarcely believing in the miracle that had been wrought under his eyes, forbade all but the simplest and briefest speech a prohibition which Puck strenuously observed; for Puck, though she knew the miracle for an accomplished fact, was not taking any chances.
He looked at her hard and straight, looked at the slim young body in its sheath of iridescent green that shimmered with every breath she drew, and very suddenly he rose. She made a spring backwards, but she was too late. He caught and held her. "Let me go!" she cried, her face crimson. "But why?" Merryon's voice fell curt and direct. He held her firmly by the shoulders.
"For Heaven's sake, man, have some brandy!" he said, proffering a flask of his own. "You're looking pretty unhealthy. What is it? Feeling a bit off, eh?" He held Merryon's wrist while he drank the brandy, regarding him with a troubled frown the while. "What is the matter with you, man?" he said. "You're not frightening yourself? You wouldn't be such a fool!" Merryon did not answer.
He began to draw him away. Merryon's eyes came back as it were out of space, and gave him a quick side-glance that was like the turn of a rapier. "I must go down to the dâk-bungalow," he said, with decision. Swift protest rose to the doctor's lips, but it died there. He tightened his hold instead, and went with him.
How old did you say you were?" Merryon's eyes regarded her piercingly. "I should like the truth," he said, in his short, grim way. She made a grimace that turned into an impish smile. "Then you must stick to the things that matter," she said. "That is nobody's business." He tried to look severe, but very curiously failed.
"And made a success of it?" Merryon asked. Her eyes shot swift defiance. "That's nobody's business but my own," she said. "You know what I think of life." Merryon's hand closed slowly upon hers. "There seems to be a pair of us," he said. "You can't refuse to let me help you for fellowship's sake." The red lips trembled suddenly. The dark eyes fell before his for the first time.
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