you to think that I dare love him and confess it to you, if you begrudge me the humiliation of stooping to kiss a man who doesn't want my kisses, if you are so afraid of losing him while I live and love him, very well, then!"
With a passionate gesture Judith tore open the bosom of her waist, offering her flesh to the muzzle of the revolver.
Just then the man at the table, startled from his sleep by the sound of angry voices, leaped from his chair with a violence that sent it clattering to the floor, and hurled himself headlong across the room, imprisoning the wrist of his betrothed with one hand while the other wrested the weapon away and passed it to Judith.
"Rose!" he cried thickly, "What does this mean? Are you mad? Judith!"
Dragging the bosom of her waist together, Judith thrust the weapon into its holster and turned away.
"Be kind to her, Alan," she said in an uncertain voice, "she didn't understand and—and I goaded her beyond endurance, I'm afraid. Forgive me—but be kind to her always."
Somehow, blindly, she stumbled out of the cabin. into the open, possessed by a thought whose temptation was stronger than her powers of resistance. She had the pistol. … None, she told herself bitterly, would seek to hinder her. … But
