Men had often enough sworn at her; but she recoiled from the roughness of this lover as if it hurt her.

Her eyes were not languishing now, but startled--then slowly they grew dim and soft with tears.
Abel Newt looked at her, surprised and pleased.
"Kitty, you're a woman still, and I like it.

It's so much the better.
I don't want a dragon or a machine.

Come, girl, are you afraid ?" "Of what ?" "Of me--of the future--of any thing ?" The tone of his voice had a lingering music of the same kind as the lingering beauty in her face.

It was a sensual, seductive sound.
"No, I am not afraid," she answered, turning to him.