Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. “Please don’t,” she said. Nevertheless, she could not prevent a rising excitement as the dawn of the new life drew near to her—a thrilling of the nerves, a secret and delicious exaltation above the common circumstances of existence. Day by day she followed the spiritual and physical contest between this man and woman. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. . But it was her proof. "You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr. Unless he has killed someone.
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