In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. You shall not take me alive. She was alone with a deadly enemy.
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