And the whispered words sent a shock through her that seemed to wrench

her deadened nerves apart, galvanising her into sudden strength. She

sprang up with wild, despairing eyes, and hands clenched frantically

across her heaving breast; then, with a bitter cry, she dropped on to

the floor, her arms flung out across the wide, luxurious bed. It was

not true! It was not true! It could not be--this awful thing that had

happened to her--not to her, Diana Mayo! It was a dream, a ghastly

dream that would pass and free her from this agony. Shuddering, she

raised her head. The strange room swam before her eyes. Oh, God! It was

not a dream. It was real, it was an actual fact from which there was no

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escape. She was trapped, powerless, defenceless, and behind the heavy

curtains near her was the man waiting to claim what he had taken. Any

moment he might come; the thought sent her shivering closer to the

ground with limbs that trembled uncontrollably. Her courage, that had

faced dangers and even death without flinching, broke down before the

horror that awaited her.

It was inevitable; there was no help to be

expected, no mercy to be hoped for. She had felt the crushing strength

against which she was helpless. She would struggle, but it would be

useless; she would fight, but it would make no difference. Within the

tent she was alone, ready to his hand like a snared animal; without,

the place was swarming with the man's followers. There was nowhere she

could turn, there was no one she could turn to. The certainty of the

accomplishment of what she dreaded crushed her with its surety. All

power of action was gone. She could only wait and suffer in the

complete moral collapse that overwhelmed her, and that was rendered

greater by her peculiar temperament. Her body was aching with the grip

of his powerful arms, her mouth was bruised with his savage kisses. She

clenched her hands in anguish. "Oh, God!" she sobbed, with scalding

tears that scorched her cheeks. "Curse him! Curse him!"

And with the words on her lips he came, silent, noiseless, to her side.

With his hands on her shoulders he forced her to her feet. His eyes

were fierce, his stern mouth parted in a cruel smile, his deep, slow

voice half angry, half impatiently amused. "Must I be valet, as well as

lover?"




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