was far from
regular, "ye 'lows thet I'd ought ter belong ter _you_?"

He ignored the teasing brightness of her eyes; a light of defensive
disguise.

"I 'lows thet hevin' oncet seed ye, an' loved ye, I hain't nuver goin'
ter be satisfied with no lesser star."

The fire had leaped up and the room had grown warm. Halloway, in his
impetuous fashion, ripped off his coat, flinging it to the floor, and
stood with his great shoulders and chest bulking mightily beneath his
flannel shirt.

Under the hurricane sweep of his love-making the girl from time to time
closed her eyes in an effort to hold to her waning steadiness. This
was one of those occasions when the fire in her responded to the fire
in him; when she felt, with a sense of deep misgiving, that she could
not resist him.

"Alexander," said the man, abruptly, dropping his voice from its
impetuous pitch, to a more quiet and yet more ardent quality, "Ye
'lowed oncet thet I shouldn't never tech ye withouten ye said I mout.
I've done obeyed ye--but now." He slowly extended both arms and stood
upright in gladiatorial strength and compelling erectness. "But now
ye're a-comin' inter my arms--of yore own accord--because we was made
fer one another."

Again her lids came down over the girl's eyes and her fingers tightly
gripped the chair-arms for support. Something in her heart was driving
her irresistibly into those outstretched arms and something
else--though that was growing weaker, she thought--kept whispering its
warning, "Steady! Go steady! This is a spell but it isn't love."

She heard the hypnotic voice again. "Ye're a-comin' inter my arms,
Alexander--ye're a-comin'--now!"

Her glance, ranging in desperation, fell on his coat at her feet, and
with the instinct of grasping at any pretext, for a moment of thought
and reprieve, she exclaimed:

"Give me thet coat, Jack!" Having breathlessly gone that far, she was
able to finish with greater self-command. "Ther linin's in sheer rags.
I kin be mendin' thet wust place by the sleeve thar--whilst ye talks."

"The coat kin wait," he declared. Her line of defense was bending now,
under the weight of his onslaught, and it was no time for trivial
interruption, but Alexander leaned forward and picked the thing up.

She had not yet begun to sew--her fingers lacked the needful
steadiness--but she was making a pretense of studying the torn lining.
She must avert her gaze from him for a moment or the tides that he