r gay young life.

She stooped at last, and with trembling, pitiful fingers touched the
velvet muzzle. Then suddenly indignation, fierce, overwhelming, headlong,
swept over her, crowding out even her horror. She stood up and faced Nap
in such a tornado of fury as had never before shaken her.

"You brute!" she said. "You fiend! You--you--"

"Devil," said Nap. "Why not say it? I shan't contradict you."

He spoke quite quietly, so quietly that, even in the wild tempest of her
anger she was awed. There was something unfathomable about him, something
that nevertheless arrested her at the very height of her fury. His manner
was so still, so deadly still, and so utterly free from cynicism.

She stood and stared at him, a queer sensation of dread making her very
heart feel cold.

"I should go if I were you," he said.

But Dot stood still, as if struck powerless.

"You can't do any good," he went on, his tone quite gentle, even remotely
kind. "I had to kill something, but it was a pity you chanced to see it.
You had better go home and forget it."

Dot's white lips began to move, but it was several seconds before any
sound came from them. "What are you going to do?"

"That's my affair," said Nap.

He was still faintly smiling, but his smile appalled her. It was so
cold, so impersonal, so void of all vitality.

"Really, you had better go," he said.

But Dot's dread had begun to take tangible form. Perhaps the very shock
she had undergone had served to awaken in her some of the dormant
instincts of her womanhood.

She stood her ground, obedient to an inner prompting that she dared not
ignore. "Will you--walk a little way with me?" she said at last.

For the first time Nap's eyes looked at her intently, searched her
closely, unsparingly. She faced the scrutiny bravely, but she
trembled under it.

At the end of a lengthy pause he spoke. "Are you going to faint?"

"No," she answered quickly. "I never faint. Only--only--I do
feel--rather sick."

He put his hand under her arm with a suddenness that allowed of no
protest and began to march her up the hill.

Long before they reached the top Dot's face was scarlet with exertion
and she was gasping painfully for breath; but he would not let her rest
till they were over the summit and out of sight of the valley and what
lay there.

Then, to her relief, he stopped. "Better now?"

"Yes," she panted.

His hand fell away from her. He turned to go. But swiftly she turn