The sweetness and seductiveness of her, the little luring devil of her,
irresistible as they were, were no more irresistible than the
naturalness, the truth of her.

I trembled even before I looked up into her flushed face and arch eyes;
and after that I knew if I could not frighten her out of this daring
mood I would have to yield despite my conviction that she only trifled.
As my manhood, as well as duty to Steele, forced me to be unyielding,
all that was left seemed to be to frighten her.

The instant this was decided a wave of emotion--love, regret,
bitterness, anger--surged over me, making me shake. I felt the skin on
my face tighten and chill. I grasped her with strength that might have
need to hold a plunging, unruly horse. I hurt her. I held her as in a
vise.

And the action, the feel of her, her suddenly uttered cry wrought
against all pretense, hurt me as my brutality hurt her, and then I spoke
what was hard, passionate truth.

"Girl, you're playing with fire!" I cried out hoarsely. "I love
you--love you as I'd want my sister loved. I asked you to marry me. That
was proof, if it was foolish. Even if you were on the square, which
you're not, we couldn't ever be anything to each other. Understand?
There's a reason, besides your being above me. I can't stand it. Stop
playing with me or I'll--I'll..."

Whatever I meant to say was not spoken, for Sally turned deathly white,
probably from my grasp and my looks as well as my threat.