fast in his, could only say brokenly over and over: "Don't, Gwen! Don't, Gwen dear!"
But the pitiful, pleading voice went on.
"Oh, Duke! Must I always lie here? Must I? Why must I?"
"God knows," answered The Duke bitterly, under his breath, "I don't!"
She caught at the word.
"Does He?" she cried, eagerly. Then she paused suddenly, turned to me and said: "Do you remember he said some day I could not do as I liked?"
I was puzzled.
"The Pilot," she cried, impatiently, "don't you remember? And I said I should do as I liked till I died."
I nodded my head and said: "But you know you didn't mean it."
"But I did, and I do," she cried, with passionate vehemence, "and I will do as I like! I will not lie here! I will ride! I will! I will! I will!" and she struggled up, clenched her fists, and sank back faint and weak. It was not a pleasant sight, but gruesome. Her rage against that Unseen Omnipotence was so defiant and so helpless.
