length. She did not move. "Can you do it?" he said.
His sweetness made her turn, but could not pierce her frozen resolve. She gazed at him across the great distance of her despair.
"Then it is really so?" he said.
Her lips tried to form words, but failed.
He looked out of the window, and saw nothing but shadow. The blue of the mountains was now become a deep purple. Suddenly his hand closed hard.
"Good-by, then," he said.
At that word she was at his feet, clutching him. "For my sake," she begged him. "For my sake."
A tremble passed through his frame. She felt his legs shake as she held them, and, looking up, she saw that his eyes were closed with misery. Then he opened them, and in their steady look she read her answer. He unclasped her hands from holding him, and raised her to her feet.
"I have no right to kiss you any more," he said. And then, before his desire could break him down from this, he was gone, and she was alone.
She did not fall, or totter, but stood motionless. And next—it seemed a moment and it seemed eternity—she heard in the distance a shot, and then two shots. Out of the window she saw people beginning to run. At that she turned and fled to her room, and flung herself face downward upon the floor.
Trampas had departed into solitude from the saloon, leaving behind him his ultimatum. His
