and brought the sleigh to a standstill
so near to Lena Harpster that he could have touched her with his hand.

Her first alarm was followed immediately by such a chaos of deeper
emotions that the cry died away on her lips. She stood looking at him
with shining eyes from behind the fringe of her tall, peaked hood,
then, in a voice as low as the wind, she spoke his name. At the same
moment she laid her hand on the edge of the seat, either obeying the
impulse that would draw her to him, or because she must otherwise have
fallen.

Since their last meeting, their night together in the shelter of the
half-finished building, he had resolutely put her from his thoughts.
He had supposed the victory won, and never more so than on this very
day, when self-interest and moral obligations had marshalled such
invincible arguments before his mind. If he had seen her from a
distance, if she had been on the sidewalk instead of in his very path,
would he have had time to wrestle with his temptation and to overthrow
it? Would he have whipped up his horse and passed her by without a
look of recognition? But the hypothesis is contrary to the fact, and
suggests a fruitless speculation. It would seem that his evil genius
had planned deliberately to put his resolution to the supreme test,
first by filling him with arrogant self-confidence, then by firing his
blood with a triumph over his enemy, and finally by placing within the
reach of his hand the very woman whom most of all, in his heart of
hearts, he longed to see.

As she stood there before him, all her soul concentrated in her eyes,
her lips apart in breathless waiting on his will, it seemed that
trouble had never put a marring finger upon her beauty; and suddenly he
knew the overmastering hunger of his nature. This was the woman that
loved him without question, the woman he wished to take into his arms
and carry off. The place and time were propitious. Already the sun
had set--there was no one in sight--and just beyond the ridge the open
country beckoned.

"Lena," he said, his voice vibrant with reckless abandonment to his
desire, "jump in here, quick!"

There was no previous greeting, no inquiry or explanation, no dalliance
with emotion. His first words were a command, her inevitable response
was to obey. Now, as always, she threw the whole responsibility upon
him. And Emmet felt equal to the burden. He was like a god, knowing
good and evil. He meant to do good in t