Her actions had passed beyond the control of her will--she never thought of control or will in the delicious madness that was upon her.

His arm began to steal behind her and around her.

She waited its slow progress in a torment of delight.

She waited, she knew not for what, panting, with dry, burning lips, a leaping pulse, and a fever of expectancy in all her blood.

The girdling arm lifted higher and drew her toward him, drew her slowly and caressingly.