He got no further, for Jerry without even looking
at him, swept his left arm around, the gesture of a giant bothered by
a troublesome insect. But it caught the fellow full in the chest, and
sent him reeling backward. Jerry's business just now was with Marcia
Van Wyck.

"You understand what I mean," he went on quickly. "You've played false
with me. You've always played false. I saw you there this morning
kissing this man, the way you kissed me, the way you kiss others for
all that I know."

"You're mad. You insult me." She rose, pale and trembling, but facing
him hardily.

"No, I'm not mad. Nothing that I can say can insult you."

"Chan!" She appealed.

It was a fatal mistake, for at the word Lloyd came forward again, bent
on making some show of resistance. Jerry turned on him with a snarl,
for the fellow had foolishly put up his hands. A few blows passed and
then--Jerry told what happened rather apologetically--"It was a pity,
Roger. It wasn't altogether his fault, but he _is_ a bounder. My fist
struck his face, seemed to smear it, literally, all into a blot of
red. It wasn't like hitting a man in the ring, it was like--like
poking a bag full of dirty linen. The whole fabric seemed to give way.
He toppled back, turned a complete somersault and collapsed."

I made no comment. I already knew that Lloyd hadn't been killed. The
girl Marcia seemed stricken dumb for a moment and found her voice only
when Jerry turned toward her again.

"Jerry," she cried. "It is horrible. You're a brute--beast--"

Jerry only pointed at the prostrate figure slowly struggling to its
knees.

"Go and kiss him," he cried. "Go. Kiss him now. He's on his knees to
you, waiting for you."

While they watched, Lloyd got to his feet, turned one look of terror
in Jerry's direction and then fled blindly into the woods, like one
possessed of a devil.

Jerry laughed. It couldn't have been very pretty laughter, for the
girl covered her face with her hands and shrank away from him.

"How _could_ you?" she stammered. "How _could_ you?"

"You were mine. He wanted you."

"Jerry--I--. It's all a mistake. You thought you saw us. I haven't
kissed--"

"You lie," he came a pace toward her. "I saw you. I'm not a fool--not
any longer."

Her gaze met his and fell. There was something in his expression,
something of the primitive that tore away all subterfuge.

But she was not without courage.

"And if I did kiss him--what then?" she asked defian