again, this time in both arms. "Oh, you can't get away, and I'm going
to have that kiss. Yes, a dozen, by Jove. You're the prettiest thing
in San Francisco, and I'll get ahead of the other men there."

His yellow distorted face--he looked like a satyr--was almost on
hers. She freed herself once more with a dexterous twisting motion of
her supple body, leaped to the front of the carriage and pounded on
the window behind the driver.

"For God's sake! You fool! What are you doing? Do you want a scandal?"

The carriage stopped its erratic course so abruptly that he was
thrown to the floor. Madeleine already had the door open. She had all
the strength of youth and perfect health, and he was worn out and
shaken. He was scrambling to his feet. She put her arms under his
shoulders and threw him out into the road.

"Go on!" she called to the driver. And as he whipped up the horses
again, his Homeric laughter mingling with the curses of the man in
the ditch, she sank back trembling and gasping. It was her first
experience of the vileness of man, for the men of her day respected
the women of their own class unless met half way, or, violently
enamoured, given full opportunity to express their emotions.

Moreover she had made a venomous enemy.

What would Howard say? What would he do to the wretch? Horsewhip
him? Would he stop to think of scandal? The road had been deserted.
She knew that Travers would keep his humiliation to himself and the
incidents that led up to it; but if she told her husband and he lost