hold her first of all in my embrace — give my lips first to her, yield to her my first caresses� . Else,” and her face paled, “I do not know what I might become — I do not know, I tell you — having been all my life deprived of intimacy — never having known familiar kindness or its lightest caress — and half dead sometimes of the need of it!”

She straightened up, clenching her hands, then smiled her breathless little smile.

“Think of it, Euan! For twenty years I have wanted her caresses — or such harmless kindness of somebody — almost of anybody! My foster-mother never kissed me, never put her arm about me — or even laid her hand lightly upon my shoulder — as did that girl do to you on the stairs� .