She went into shock. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. The annihilation of the Terror which fascinated her and troubled her dreams o' nights. It is one of God’s laws that a woman may defend her honour, even with the shedding of blood. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. “I want you to kiss me,” she said. And this was an adventure of which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South Seas.
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