I will not even touch you again until you give me leave.

Oh! I adore you so--Sabine, I will bear anything if only you do not mean that you want to send me away." The anguish and fond worship in his face wrung her heart.

She started from him and then, returning, held out her arms, while she cried with a pitiful gasp, almost as of a sob in her throat: "Yes--take me and kiss me--kiss me until I don't feel!--I mean until I feel--Henry, you said you would make me forget!" He encircled her with his arm and led her to a sofa, murmuring every vow of passionate love; and here he sat by her and kissed her and caressed her to his heart's content, while she remained apparently passive, but still as white as the violets in her dress, and inwardly she could hardly keep from screaming, the torture of it was so great.

At last she could bear no more, but disengaging herself from his arms she slipped on to the floor, and there sat upon a low footstool, with her back to the fire, shivering as though with icy cold.
Lord Fordyce's instincts were too fine not to realize something of the meaning of this scene.

Although not greatly learned in the ways of women, he had kissed them often before in his life, and none had received his caresses like that.