No woman can love like a broken woman. If it were
not for one thing--just one thing--and yet! I can't speak it--I'd
glory in your manhood--the lion in you that means to slay for me.
Believe me--and spare Dyer. Be merciful--great as it's in you to
be great....Oh, listen and believe--I have nothing, but I'm a
woman--a beautiful woman, Lassiter--a passionate, loving
woman--and I love you! Take me--hide me in some wild place--and
love me and mend my broken heart. Spare him and take me
away."
She lifted her face closer and closer to his, until their lips
nearly touched, and she hung upon his neck, and with strength
almost spent pressed and still pressed her palpitating body to
his.
"Kiss me!" she whispered, blindly.
"No--not at your price!" he answered. His voice had changed or
she had lost clearness of hearing.
"Kiss me!...Are you a man? Kiss me and save me!"
"Jane, you never played fair with me. But now you're blisterin'
your lips--blackenin' your soul with lies!"
"By the memory of my mother--by my Bible--no! No, I have no
Bible! But by my hope of heaven I swear I love you!"
Lassiter's gray lips formed soundless words that meant even her
love could not avail to bend his will. As if the hold of her arms
was that of a child's he loosened it and stepped away.
"Wait! Don't go! Oh, hear a last word!...May a more just and
merciful God than the God I was taught to worship judge
me--forgive me--save me! For I can no longer keep
silent!.
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