But she would not give in, she would
rather die than be conquered.
"Gritzko--oh, Gritzko! please--please don't!" she cried, almost
suffocated.
But she knew as she looked at him that he was beyond all hearing.
His splendid eyes blazed with the passion of a wild beast. She knew if
she resisted him he would kill her. Well, better death than this
hideous disgrace.
He held her from him for a second, and then lifted her in his arms.
But with the strength of terrified madness she grasped his wounded arm,
and in the second in which he made a sudden wince, she gave an eel-like
twist and slipped from his grasp, and as she did so she seized the
pistol in his belt and stood erect while she placed the muzzle to her
own white forehead.
"Touch me again, and I will shoot!" she gasped, and sank down on the
bench almost exhausted behind the rough wooden table.
He made a step forward, but she lifted the pistol again to her head
and leant her arm on the board to steady herself. And thus they glared
at one another, the hunter and the hunted.
"This is very clever of you, Madame," he said; "but do you think it
will avail you anything? You can sit like that all night, if you wish,
but before dawn I will take you."
Tamara did not answer.
Then he flung himself on the couch and lit a cigarette, and all that
was savage and cruel in him flamed from his eyes.
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