I've got you. The story is already started that you
were the painter's mistress, and that you have committed suicide. You
shall stay here, a while, until the belief that you are dead has become a
certainty; then you will go East with me."
"But you cannot do a thing so horrible!" she exclaimed "I would tell my
story to the first people we met."
He laughed grimly, as he retorted with brutal meaning, "You do not seem to
understand. You will be glad enough to keep the story a secret--when the
time comes to go."
Bewildered by fear and shame, the girl could only stammer, "How could
you--oh how could you! Why, why--"
"Why!" he echoed. Then, as he went a step toward her, he exclaimed, with
reckless profanity, "Ask the God who made me what I am, why I want you!
Ask the God who made you so beautiful, why!"
He moved another step toward her, his face flushed with the insane passion
that mastered him, his eyes burning with the reckless light of one past
counting the cost; and the girl, seeing, sprang to her feet, in terror.
Wheeling suddenly, she ran into the cabin, thinking to shut and bar the
door. She reached the door, and swung it shut, but the bar was gone. While
he was in the cabin he had placed it out of her reach.
Pages:
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471