"God help me! I am mad!" he said.
She stood with throbbing pulses, gasping for breath, feeling as one who had passed through raging fires into a desert of smouldering ashes.

She seemed to be seared from head to foot.

The fiery torment of his kisses had left her tingling in every nerve.
He moved away to the table on which he had flung his revolver, and stood there with his back to her.

He was swaying a little on his feet.
Without looking at her, he spoke, his voice shaky, wholly unfamiliar.
"You had better go.

I--I am not safe.