It beat with life.

It made him strangely unafraid of what might be ahead of him.
Back at the door of the cabin Thoreau stood with one of his big arms encircling Marie's slim shoulders.
"I tell you it is like taking the life of a puppy, _ma cherie_," he was saying.

"It is inconceivable.

It is bloodthirsty.

And yet...." He opened the door behind them.
"They are gone," he finished.