d over you. But compare marrying me, living and traveling
among decent people and comfort, to camps like this. If I don't get
drunk I'll be half decent to you. But I'll get shot sooner or later.
Then you'll be left to Gulden."

"Why do you say HIM?" she queried, in a shudder of curiosity.

"Well, Gulden haunts me."

"He does me, too. He makes me lose my sense of proportion. Beside him
you and the others seem good. But you ARE wicked."

"Then you won't marry me and go away somewhere?... Your choice is
strange. Because I tell you the truth."

"Kells! I'm a woman. Something deep in me says you won't keep me
here--you can't be so base. Not now, after I saved your life! It would
be horrible--inhuman. I can't believe any man born of a woman could do
it."

"But I want you--I love you!" he said, low and hard.

"Love! That's not love," she replied in scorn. "God only knows what it
is."

"Call it what you like," he went on, bitterly. "You're a young,
beautiful, sweet woman. It's wonderful to be near you. My life has been
hell. I've had nothing. There's only hell to look forward to--and hell
at the end. Why shouldn't I keep you here?"

"But, Kells, listen," she whispered, earnestly, "suppose I am young
and beautiful and sweet--as you said. I'm utterly in your power. I'm
compelled to seek your protection from even worse men. You're different
from these others. You're educated. You must have had--a--a good mother.
Now you're bitter, desperate, terrible. You hate life. You seem to think
this charm you see in me will bring you something. Maybe a glimpse of
joy! But how can it? You know better. How can it... unless I--I love
you?"

Kells stared at her, the evil and hardness of his passion corded in
his face. And the shadows of comprehending thought in his strange eyes
showed the other side of the man. He was still staring at her while he
reached to put aside the curtains; then he dropped his head and went
out.

Joan sat motionless, watching the door where he had disappeared,
listening to the mounting beats of her heart. She had only been frank
and earnest with Kells. But he had taken a meaning from her last
few words that she had not intended to convey. All that was woman in
her--mounting, righting, hating--leaped to the power she sensed in
herself. If she could be deceitful, cunning, shameless in holding out to
Kells a possible return of his love, she could do anything with him. She
knew it. She did not need to marry hi