and made
him for the first time in his life curiously deaf to his own thoughts.

As she met his eye, expressing more than he realized of the storm
within, her own fell with a sudden sense of apprehension. She rose and
looked far out over the restless waves with a sudden flush on her
dimpled cheek, a subtle excitement in her rapid words.

"As for our men, Paul, they are only human beings, but mighty with that
strength of physique and perfect development of mind that makes for
power. They are men of dauntless purpose. They are men of pure thoughts
and lofty ideals. They know what they want and bend every ambition and
energy to its attainment. Of course I speak of the average American--the
_type_! The normal American is a born fighter. Yes, that is the key-note
of American supremacy! We never give up! never! In my country, what men
want, they get!"

She raised her hand in a quaint, expressive gesture, and the loose
sleeve fell back, leaving her white arm bare. He sprang to his feet, his
eyes glowing.

"And in my country, what men want, they _take_!" he responded
fiercely--almost brutally and without a second's warning Paul threw his
arms about her and crushed her against his breast. He pressed his lips
mercilessly upon her own, holding them in a kiss that seemed to Opal
would never end.

"How--how dare you!" she gasped, when at last she escaped his grasp and
faced him in the fury of outraged girlhood. "I--I--hate you!"

"Dare? When one loves one dares anything!" was his husky response. "I
shall have had my kiss and you can never forget that! Never! never!"

And Paul's voice grew exultant.

Opal had heard of the brutality, the barbarism of passion, but her life
had flowed along conventional channels as peacefully as a quiet river.
She had longed to believe in the fury of love--in that irresistible
attraction between men and women. It appealed to her as it naturally
appeals to all women who are alive with the intensity of life. But she
had _seen_ nothing of it.

Now she looked living Passion in the face for the first time, and was
appalled--half frightened, half fascinated--by the revelation. That kiss
seemed to scorch her lips with a fire she had never dreamed of. With
the universal instinct of shamed womanhood, she pressed her handkerchief
to her lips, rubbing fiercely at the soiled spot. He divined her thought
and laughed, with a note of exultation that stirred her Southern blood.

In defiance she raised her e