“You’ve forgotten. The country is swarming with rebels. West, north. They have gone on east, too. There is no way for us to go. Probably the armies are strewn all through Maryland.”

“They’d let us through. They—”

“No, you know they wouldn’t. There are no trains here: they’re destroying the railroads as they go. If we—did go, and had horses, they would take the horses. We must stay.” She cried, “You can go, Dan. You—Go away and leave me. Much the best that you can—”

“You wish me to go? Actually?”

“Yes, yes! Dan—”

He said, “God. Oh, God. I wouldn’t go if—” His face came down; he pressed her hands aside; she struggled weakly, and the damp cloak slid down in a soggy pile. In this gown I saw you first, he wanted to say. I could never go away from you now. We are going through something: it is a—phase … Damp, abusive, their lips came together.

Just as before, he cried to her without words, just as the other nights. In these few weeks we have met and tasted and taken; you must take, I must give to you, you must take and absorb. “Dan…” she groaned, an aching murmur, curling out from the hot crowding of their mouths. “I have to go back, to that house—to them—” No, he said, if you must go back, you can go later, but we shall forget the disaster. Tomorrow we may talk about it; the invaders are gone, the roads are safe, you can drive out with an old horse, I will meet you; in a few days you can decide coldly and justly, what you shall say to him. Or I will say it. I will go, and tell him. Whatever you wish … not now, not now. Again this is our night.

With the girl sobbing, shivering in his arms, he went over and blew out the candle. The darkness wrapped so tightly around them that they became utterly insensitive to it; it was difficult to think about the next day, or even what home-going might be necessary before morning. He began to tell her, rapidly and many times, that he loved her. It was the most sincere belief he had ever held in all his life, and came tonight with acid intensity. Body, thoughts, taste of your mouth, the feel of breasts and thighs, the astral voicelessness which is your spirit, all of these I worship and want to possess as I possess my own. He told her again and again by word, by touch, by the whole use of his body. The woman left off sobbing; her flesh grew warm … give, give to me forever, she told him—darling, give to me, most beloved—I desire you forever, whether my mind wishes it or not. At this moment all wickedness is pure.

Chapter 4

4.