The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1910-10-21

You belong to me-" His hand
closed on her. Mine is the only honor
you have to think Of Can't you trust
through my eyes? Can't you make
yourself all mine?" His arm was
around her now, holding her fast, but
she turned her face away, and his
kisses fell only on her cheek and
hair.
"Oh," she cried, eff only could"
Don't you love me?"
ooh, yes, but that makes me see,
all the more, the dreadful difference
between u.s."
you silly child, there is no differ
ence, really"
"Ah, yes, you know it as well as
l. You were afraid of it, too. All
that long time you were walking
around you were wondering whether
you dared to take me-"
He denied her steadily, "Never!"
She loved him for that gallant de-
NAL, for she knew he had been afraid,
horribly afraid, more afraid than she
was now; but that strange quality Of
his that gave to a double risk dou-
BILE zest had set him all the hotter on
this resolution.
He sat for some long moments
thoughtfully looking straight before
him. She, glancing at his profile,
white and family glimmering in the
twilight, thought it looked sharp, abb
| No. N1a en- h q
great determination growing there in
the gloom between them, looming and
overshadowing them both.
81 see," he said at last 81 simply
have to take you in spite of it." He
turned around to her, and reached his
hands down through the dusk. She
was being drawn up into arms which
she could not see. Her hands were
clasped around a neck, her cheek was
against a face which she had never
hoped to touch. Her reason and her
fears were stifed and caught away
from her lips with her breath. She
was giving up to her awful weakness.
She was giving up to the power of love.
She was letting herself sink into 1t as
she would sink into deep water. The
sense of drowning in this profound,
unfathomable element, of shutting her
eyes and opening her arms to it, was
the highest she had ever touched; but
all at once the memory Of what she
was leaving behind her, like last
glimpse of sky, swept her with fear.
She made desperate effort to rescue
herself before the waters quite closed
over her head.
She pulled herself free. Without
his arms around her for the first mo-
ment she could hardly stand. She
took an uncertain step forward; then
with rush she reached the white cur
tains. They tapped behind her. She
heard Kerr laugh, note, quiet, ca
ressing, almost content. 1t came from
the gloom like a disembodied voice of
triumph. Her rush had carried her
into the middle of the anteroom. At
this last moment was there to be no
miracle to save her? There was no
rescue among these dumb walls and
closed-up windows. The purple child
gave her a sharp, bird-like glance, as
if the most that this wild woman
could want was Change" Flora
looked behind her and saw Kerr, who
had put aside the curtains and was
standing looking at her. He was
bright and triumphant in that twilight
room. He was not afraid of losing
her now. He knew in that one mo-
ment he had imprisoned her for ever!
She saw him approaching, but though
all her mind and spirit strained for
fight, something had happened to her
will. 1t tottered like her knees.
He stopped and picked up an arti-
fetal rose, which had fallen from her
hat, and put it into her hand. A mo-
ment with his head bent, he stood
looking into her face, but without
touching her.
"Sit down over there" he said, and
pointed toward a chair against the
wall. She went meekly like pTs-
oner He spoke to the child in the
purple apron, who was still sitting
behind the desk. He put some money
on the cash-desk in front of her. 1t
was gold. 1t shone gorgeously in the
dull surrounding, and the child
bounced upon it, incredulous of her
luck. Then he turned, crossed the
room, soundlessly opened the door,
and went out into the violet dark Of
the street.