The soft clasp of her fingers, clinging round his, roused his senses, fired his passion for her, swept out of his mind the pure aspirations which had filled it but the moment before, paralyzed his perception when it was just penetrating the mystery of her disturbed manner and her strange words.

All the man in him trembled under the rapture of her touch.

But the thought of Horace was still present to him: his hand lay passive in hers; his eyes looked uneasily away from her.
She innocently strengthened her clasp of his hand.

She innocently said to him, "Don't look away from me.

Your eyes give me courage." His hand returned the pressure of hers.