He leered down at the shrinking girl.
“Nobody’s going to hurt you. Leave your cloak here.”
“No, I’ll wear it,” she said.
Her hand went instinctively to the butt of the pistol and closed upon it.
“All right, come as you are. It makes no difference to me.”
He held her tightly by the hand and marched by her side, surprised and pleased that she offered so little resistance. Down into the hall they went, and then to the little drawing-room adjoining his study. He flung open the door and showed her the gaily decorated table, pushing her into the room before him.
“Wine and a kiss!” he roared, as he pulled the cork from a champagne bottle and sent the amber fluid splashing upon the spotless tablecloth. “Wine and a kiss!” He splashed the glass out to her so that it spilt and trickled down her cloak.
She shook her head mutely.
“Drink!” he snarled, and she touched the glass with her lips.
Then, before she could realize what had happened, she was in his arms, his great face pressed down to hers. She tried to escape from the encirclement of his embrace, successfully averted her mouth and felt his hot lips pressing against her cheek.