“Yes!”
With the sudden crouch of a tiger he drew his clenched fist to strike.
“Forget it!”
She sprang back with terror, her body trembling in pitiful weakness.
“You snivelling little coward!” he growled.
“Oh, Jim, Jim,” she faltered,—“you—you—couldn't strike me!”
A step nearer and he stood over her, his big, flat head thrust forward, his eyes gleaming, his muscles knotted in blind rage.
“No—I won't STRIKE you,” he whispered. “I'll just KILL you—that's all!”
With the leap of an infuriated beast he sprang on her and his sharp fingers gripped her throat.
The world went black and she felt herself sinking into a bottomless abyss. With maniac energy she tore his hands from her throat and the warm blood streamed from the gash his nails had torn.