Again the Girl sent over her shoulder a forced little laugh.
“Who—me?”
The Sheriff’s face brightened. Taking a few steps nearer to her, he hazarded:
“Say, Girl, was your answer final to-night about marrying me?”
Without turning round the Girl answered coyly:
“I might think it over, Jack.”
Instantly the man’s passion was aroused. He strode over to her, put his arms around her and kissed her forcibly.
“I love you, I love you, Minnie!” he cried passionately.
In the struggle that followed, the Girl’s eyes fell on the bottle on the mantel. With a cry she seized it and raised it threateningly over her head. Another second, however, she sank down upon a chair and began to sob, her face buried in her hands.
Rance regarded her coldly: at last he gave vent to a mirthless laugh, the nasty laugh of a man whose vanity is hurt.