Judith had drawn the pocket-book that held this letter from her bosom, unseen by her assailant, and made a movement as if to depart; but Storms leaped upon her like a wild beast, and when she struggled fiercely with him, hurled her against the window.
A loud crash, a storm of shattered glass and splintered wood, and, through the great ragged opening, Judith Hart reeled into the balcony, hurling the pocket-book over her murderer's shoulder. He did not see the act, of which the girl herself was almost unconscious. His arm was coiled around her, and though holding backward with all her might, she was forced to the edge of the rickety structure, that began to reel under them. Here the man held her a moment, looking down into her white face with his keen, cruel eyes.
"This is how I forgive—this is how I love you—this is the way you will keep me from a fortune!"
The girl was mute with terror. She could not even cry out, but clung to him in a dumb agony of entreaty.
"You meant to force me into marrying you, poor fool! Give me that letter!"
The wretched girl had flung the letter from her and she could not tell where. It might be in the water or among the rushes.
"I have not got it—I have not; but I loved you! Oh, I did love you!"
"Lying with your last breath. The accursed thing is in your bosom."
"No! no! no!"
She held on to him now, though he had lifted her from her feet, and covering his cruel face with desperate kisses, clung to him with a grasp that even his wiry strength could not tear away.