Some would have denounced him.

But she stood there and he dared not look up to read what was written in her face.

He felt alone, all alone, with every man's hand against him, he who had never in all his life felt so or had done anything to make him feel so before.

He groaned as the sweat of his mental and physical agony poured coldly out on his forehead.

All that he knew was that she was standing there, silent, looking him through and through, as cold as a statue.