If it were not for one thing--just one thing--and yet! I can't speak it--I'd glory in your manhood--the lion in you that means to slay for me.

Believe me--and spare Dyer.

Be merciful--great as it's in you to be great....

Oh, listen and believe--I have nothing, but I'm a woman--a beautiful woman, Lassiter--a passionate, loving woman--and I love you! Take me--hide me in some wild place--and love me and mend my broken heart.

Spare him and take me away." She lifted her face closer and closer to his, until their lips nearly touched, and she hung upon his neck, and with strength almost spent pressed and still pressed her palpitating body to his.
"Kiss me!" she whispered, blindly.
"No--not at your price!" he answered.