In spite of her surprise, in spite of her shrinking, in spite of her evasion, she confessed it in her heart.

She had known all the time.

Something deep down in her, something secret and profound and clairvoyant, had discerned the truth from the beginning.
"No! no!" she cried out sharply, for, mistaking her silence, he had stooped to her with the directness which impelled all his movements, which so easily brushed aside and discarded intervening encumbrances, and had kissed her on the lips.
For an instant, in the merciless tenderness of his arms, her resistance melted from her.

Beneath the crash of the storm she did not think, she did not struggle, she did not murmur.

Her consciousness seemed suspended, and with her consciousness, her memory, her judgment, even her passionate unshaken loyalty to the love of her youth.