“Just that.” An oath came between his clenched teeth. “I’m stuck on you! I want you so I hate you, if you can understand that—and always have. I’d like to take you off like a dog packs a bone away for himself. I’ve dealt you and your sheep all the misery I could, because every step you took up was just so far from me. What I’ve done,” savagely, “is nothin’ to what I’ll do when I git out of this, if you don’t say yes.”
Kate’s face, that had gone scarlet, was a grayish white as she got up slowly from her knees.
Her breathing was labored as she demanded:
“You—mean—that—you’ll—not—tell me anything more unless I do what you ask?”
Kate’s nerves and self-control gave way as a taut string snaps. In the center of a black disc she saw only the mocking eyes and evil face of Mullendore.
“I’m going to kill you, Pete! I’m—going—to choke you—to death! You—shan’t torment me—any more!”
Her strong hands were close to his throat while he shrank from the white fury in her face. Suddenly her arms dropped to her sides. Such a feeling of physical repulsion swept over her that she could not touch him even in her rage.
“Lost your nerve?” he mocked. “Old Pete wins again, eh, Kate?”
She did not answer but stepped out on the wagon tongue that the cool rain might patter in her face. Her knees were shaking beneath her and she felt nauseated—sick with a feeling of absolute defeat.