“You little devil, I’ll kill you for this.”
Once more he sprang at her, held her down. She felt her strength leave her. She could resist no more. She was fainting.... Then suddenly she remembered....
“Stop!” she cried; “Stop for your own sake! Can’t you see I’m ill? Can’t you see what is the matter?”
Something in her voice arrested him. He drew back. There was a long tense pause. Slowly he turned up the light. Then ... he grew limp with terror. He looked closely and shrank back.
“No, no,” he gasped hoarsely. “Not that?”
“Yes, that!” she screamed. “And now you’ll have it too. Oh, brute, brute! You can kill me if you like. I have had my revenge. They’re coming with the ambulance, coming even now. You hear, it’s the smallpox, you dog! The smallpox....”
But Popol did not want to kill her. Gazing at her with horror-stricken eyes he backed to the door.
“Yes,” she exulted, “You can kiss me now. It will make more sure, or rather see.... I am coming to kiss you.”
She made a move as if to rise and follow him but he did not wait. He reeled through the door, pulling it to behind him. She heard him stumbling down the dark narrow stairs, blubbering like a child.
“Oh, it’s awful,” he cried. “I can’t stand it. I’m not a sound man. It will kill me. It will kill me.”