"Yes!"
"Better than power?"
"Yes!"
"Better than your own life?"
"Yes!" he whispered, crushing her hand in his.
"Suppose I should put you to a test and you should fail?"
"With your eyes calling me I'd dare the terrors of hell!"
She took both his hands, fixed her eyes on his until their warm brown light enfolded him with tenderness:
"Give me the name of the Chief of the Ku Klux Klan in North Carolina," she whispered.
Steve's face went white, and he stammered:
"Why—why—my dear—how—can—I? I don't know him. It's impossible!"
"Nothing is impossible to the man who loves me if I desire it," she answered, firmly holding Steve with her eyes dilated to extraordinary size under the tension of her deep emotion.
He turned from her gaze, the cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
"But, Stella, my dear, I'm not a member of the Klan."
She dropped his hand, sprang to her feet, and looked at him a moment.
