Swift fear leaped through her as she fought away from him.
“Oh, Hal!” she cried. “What—what are you looking at me that way for? Your eyes, Hal—your eyes—”
In vain he tried to kiss her. Her face was turned away, her hands repulsing him.
“Kiss me, Laura! Kiss me!”
“No, no—not now! Oh, Hal, you have only yourself to resist. I have you to resist, and myself, too!”
The thought gave him a minute’s pause. Did some instinct of chivalry, deep-buried, try for a second to struggle up through his evil heritage, or was it but surprise that loosed his grip upon her so that she escaped his hands, his arms?
“God forgive you, Hal, for having killed the most wonderful treasure I had—my faith in you!” she cried from where she stood now, looking down at him with tragic eyes of disillusion. “Oh, God forgive you!”
He would have spoken, but she turned and fled toward the tangled thicket through which the path led downward.
“Laura! Wait!” He sprang to his feet, peering after her with hateful eyes. No answer as she vanished through the greenery.