"Hate me, then! Hate
me!" he said, and kissed her again savagely on her white, panting lips
as he had kissed her the night before, showing no mercy.

She did not resist him. Her strength was gone. She hung quivering in his
arms till the storm of his passion had passed also. Then: "Let us go!"
she whispered: "Let us go!"

He released her slowly and turned to open the door. Then, seeing that
she moved unsteadily, he put his arm about her, supporting her. So, side
by side and linked together, they went out into the driving snow.

CHAPTER XII

CHRISTMAS NIGHT

Doris was nearly fainting with cold and misery when they stopped at last
before the Mill House door. All the previous night she had sat up
listening with nerves on edge, and had finally taken her departure in
the early morning without food.

When Jeff turned to help her down she looked at him helplessly, seeing
him through a drifting mist that obscured all besides. He saw her
weakness at a single glance, and, mounting the step, took her in his
arms.

She sank down against his shoulder. "Oh, Jeff, I can't help it," she
whispered, through lips that were stiff and blue with cold.

"All right. I know," he said, and for the first time in many days she
heard a note of kindness in his voice.

He bore her straight through to the kitchen, and laid her down upon the
old oak settle, just as he had done on that day in September when first
he had brought her to his home.

Granny Grimshaw, full of tender solicitude, came hastening to her, but
Jeff intervened.

"Hot milk and brandy--quick!" he ordered, and fell himself to chafing
the icy fingers.

When Granny Grimshaw brought the cup, he took it from her, and held it
for Doris to drink; and then, when she had swallowed a little and the
blood was creeping back into her face, he took off her boots and chafed
her feet also.

Granny Grimshaw put some bread into the milk while this was in progress
and coaxed Doris to finish it. She asked no questions, simply treating
her as she might have treated a lost child who had strayed away. There
was a vast fund of wisdom in the old grey head that was so often shaken
over the follies of youth.

And, finally, when Doris had a little recovered, she went with her to
her room, and helped her to bed, where she tucked her up with her own
hot-water bottle and left her.

From sheer exhaustion Doris slept, though her sleep was not a happy one.
Long, tangled dreams wound in a c