No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. As she came close, he took a pace forward and seized her from behind, one strong arm clamping her tight against his chest, the free hand seizing her about the mouth, stifling the cry that gurgled in her throat. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. I went off to round up his wife. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood.
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