" And he proceeded to handcuff his captive. "Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. "Why you wouldn't stand in the way of his good fortune surely? I'll be a second father to him, I tell you. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. ‘I am not a murderer. In the matter of his conscience he was primitive; and for an educated man to become primitive is to become something of a child. Wild's busy. "Got the rooms mixed. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration.
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