And it is not for
Jean Croisset to listen to it here. I will kill you unless you take
it back!"
"God!" breathed Howland. He looked straight into Croisset's face. "I'm
glad--it's so--Jean," he added slowly. "Don't you understand, man? I
love her. I didn't mean what I said. I would kill for her, too, Jean. I
said that to find out--what you would do--"
Slowly Croisset relaxed, a faint smile curling his thin lips.
"If it was a joke, M'seur, it was a bad one."
"It wasn't a joke," cried Howland. "It was a serious effort to make you
tell me something about Meleese. Listen, Jean--she told me back there
that it was not wrong for me to love her, and when I lay bound and
gagged in the snow she came to me and--and kissed me. I don't
understand--"
Croisset interrupted him.
"Did she do that, M'seur?"
"I swear it."
"Then you are fortunate," smiled Jean softly, "for I will stake my hope
in the blessed hereafter that she has never done that to another man,
M'seur. But it will never happen again."
"I believe that it will--unless you kill me."
"And I shall not hesitate to kill you if I think that it is likely to
happen again. There are others who would kill you--knowing that it has
happened but once.
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