"Give me--strength--not to kill this animal!" A startled look came into Herzog's face.

He recognized, at last, the nature of the rage he had awakened.

In those twitching fists and that white, writhen face he recognized the signs of passion that might, on a second's notice, leap to murder.

And, shot through with panic, he now retreated, like the coward he was, though with the sneer still on his thin and cruel lips.
"Get your time!" he commanded, with crude brutality.

"Go, get it at once.