"Herrie, come back!" Lyle Iden commanded.
Herrrie Piper stopped, but she didn't turn around.
"For God's sake, what do you want of me?" he asked. "I'm always upsetting you when we're together. Shall I go back to London? Is that what you want?" She couldn't speak and his hands came out to her shoulders and spun her round impatiently to face him. "Herrie," he went on gruffly, "I'm no good for you!"
She found her voice at last. "I only know how I feel . . . ."
He shook her roughly and her head fell back. "This cozy notion about platonic friendship -- it wouldn't work between us." He searched her pale, woebegone face. Herrie closed her eys against him. Her silky lashes shone with tears. Lyle swore explosively and jerked her into his arms, and when his mouth closed on hers Herrie unconsciously released a long audible sigh. . . .