" "Come, lad; let's have it," said McClintock. She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. “Because I hate you!” She spat. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. “I wish he had,” she said. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. Spurling, as if struck by a sudden idea. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression. Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, he ran along the direct road, till the houses disappeared and he got into the open country. He felt himself collapse heavily onto her naked body, still inside her. You speak as one injured—as though I had been the one to take your name—as though you had been the one to make sacrifices.
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