nor resisting, as he shook her, hugged her, cursed her incoherently in that frenzy of desire and frustrate shame.
“Look here,” he panted thickly, shaking her. “Say something!… Do something!… Don’t stand there like a God-damned wooden Indian!… Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?… Why are you any better than anyone else?… Ann! Ann! Look at me!… Speak! What is it?… Oh, God-damn you!” he said with a savagely unconscious humour that neither of them noticed, “—but I love you!… Oh, you big, dumb, beautiful Boston bitch,” he panted amorously, “—just turn your face to me—and look at me—and by God! I will! I will!” he muttered savagely, and for the first time, and with a kind of desperation, kissed her on the mouth, and glared around him like a madman and, without knowing what he was doing, began to haul and drag her along toward the bed, muttering—“By God, I’ll do it!—Oh, you sweet, dumb, lovely trollop of a Back Bay—Ann!” he cried exultantly. “Oh, by God, I’ll thaw you out, I’ll melt your ice, my girl—by God, I’ll open you!—Is it her arm, now?” he began gloatingly, and lifted her long arm with a kind of slow, rending ecstasy and bit into her shoulder haunch, “or her neck, or her warm face and sullen mouth, or the good smell of her, or that lovely belly, darling—that white, lovely, fruitful Boston belly,” he gloated, “good for about a dozen babies, isn’t it?—or the big hips and swelling thighs, the long haunch from waist to knee—oh, you fertile, dumb, unploughed plantation of a woman—but I’ll plant you!” he yelled exultantly—“and the big, dumb eyes of her, and her long hands and slender fingers—how did you ever get such slender, graceful hands, you delicate, big—here! give me the hands now—and all the fine, long lady-fingers”—he said with gentle, murderous desire, and suddenly felt the girl’s long fingers trembling on his arm, took them in his hands and felt them there, and all her big, slow body trembling in his grasp, and was suddenly pierced with a wild and nameless feeling of pity and regret.
“Oh, Ann, don’t,” he said, and seized her hand and held it prayerfully. “Don’t look like that—don’t be afraid—oh, look here!” he said desperately again, and put his arms round her trembling shoulders and began to pat her soothingly. “—Please don’t act like that—don’t tremble so—don’t be afraid of me!—Oh, Ann, please don’t look at me that way—I didn’t mean it—I’m so God-damned sorry, Ann—Ah-h! it’s going to be all right! It’s going to be all right! I swear it’s going to be all right!” he
