Brendon’s had an awful stroke of luck. “So you’d best open your coffers. He dropped the key on the counterpane. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. Something in her tone made him look up. ‘It will suit me very well that you go away, because you are a person without sense and I do not wish to talk to you. She caught at the idea. So, adroitly and patiently, he pulled Ruth apart; that is, he plucked forth a little secret here, another there, until he had quite a substantial array.
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