CHAPTER IX. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an extraordinary fascination. He must have married when he was quite a young man. You are my prisoner, murderer. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. ‘You are wise, Marthe. “I should kill you. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat.
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