But there are certain conditions--certain----" She struck him, then, bringing her free hand around with a wide, full sweep.

The open hand landed on the side of his face with a smack that resounded through the cabin, staggering him, causing him to release the other hand.
A great, red welt appeared on his cheek where the hand had struck; and he felt of his cheek with his fingers, amazed, incredulous.

For an instant only, however, he stood, trying to wipe the sting of the blow away.

Then he laughed throatily and started after her--she having retreated behind the table, where she stood, watching him, her eyes wide, her face dead white.
Warden, leaning far over the table, saw her eyes close as she stood there; saw her fingers grip the edge of the table; noted that her chin had dropped and that she seemed to be on the point of fainting.
Warden's back was toward the front door; he had to slip sideways to get around the table, and as he did so his profile was brought toward the door.

He saw a shadow at his feet--a shadow cast by the last effulgent glow of the setting sun--a shadow made by a man standing in the doorway.
Warden halted and held hard to the table edge.