cely, he rained
burning kisses upon her shrinking face, upon her neck, her shoulders, her
hands, till, after many seconds of vain resistance, spent, quivering,
terrified, she broke into agonized tears against his breast.

His hold relaxed then, but tightened again as her trembling limbs refused
to support her. He held her for a while till her agitation had in some
degree subsided; then at last he took her two shaking hands into one of
his, and turned her face upwards.

Once more his eyes held hers, but the fire in them had died down to a
smoulder. His mouth was grim.

"Come!" he said quietly, "you won't defy me after this?"

Her white lips only quivered in reply. She made no further effort to
resist him.

Very slowly he took his arm from her, still holding her hands.

"You have married a savage," he said, "but you would never have known it
if you had not taunted me with your defiance. Let me tell you now--for
it is as well that you should know it--that there is nothing--do you
hear?--nothing in this world that I cannot make you do if I so choose!
But if you are wise, you will not challenge me to prove this. It is
enough for you to know that as I have mastered myself, so I can--and so
I will--master you!"

His words fell with a ring of iron. The old inflexibly sombre demeanour
by which alone till that night she had always known him clothed him like
a coat of mail. Only the grasp of his hand was vital and close. It seemed
to burn her flesh.

"I have done!" he said, after a pause. "Have you anything further to say
to me?"

She found it within her power to free herself, and did so. She was
shaking from head to foot. The untamed violence of the man had appalled
her, but his abrupt resumption of self-control was almost more terrible.
She felt as if his will compassed and constrained her like bands of iron.

She stood before him in panting silence, a shrinking woman, striving
vainly to raise from the dust the shield of pride that he had so rudely
shattered and flung aside. She could not speak to him. She had no words.
From the depths of her soul she hated him. But--it had come to this--she
did not dare to tell him so.

He waited quietly for a few seconds; then unexpectedly, but without
vehemence, he held out his hand to her.

"Anne," he said, a subtle change in his deep voice, "fight against me,
and you will be miserable, for I am bound to conquer you. But come to
me--come to me of your own free will--and I swea