"For good—or bad. My poor boy——"
He put her "poor boy" from him with a gesture of the hand. He asked in a flat, toneless voice:
"Am I a blackguard like von Herrnung? You came down here to marry me. What will be said afterwards—if——"
"I'm past caring what people think or say!" she flashed at him angrily. "I've told you that I will not marry you!—that I'm not fit to be your wife. Oh! if you suppose it didn't hurt——"
A rush of tears drowned out his altered visage. She turned away, fighting for composure, summoning all her woman's pride to help her at her need. That swaying grace, that alluring physical perfection—had never appealed to Sherbrand's senses so irresistibly....
"Patrine!"
She heard his eager footsteps following her. She was snatched into his masterful embrace, assailed by his stormy kisses, wooed by his passionate words of love beyond her power to resist. The flood in the veins of both was rising, the force of the warm rushing torrent was bearing them away, she cared not whither, so that she might keep those arms about her still.
"Patrine! My woman of women—do you think I'd let you go from me? Not I! I'll have you for my wife whether you will or no! We'll forget—all that! We'll be happy in spite of it. Won't we?"
"No!" she gasped out.
"We will, I tell you!" He laughed out with ringing triumph and bent his head, seeking her evasive mouth with his own. Hard pressed she had panted: