"Why should I?" he said, still holding her. "Don't you know yet that it's
the very last thing I mean to do?"
"You must! Oh, you must!" she cried back. "You can't--you--you
can't--hold me--against my will!"
"That's true," said Saltash, as if struck by something. "And are you
capable of leaving me--against mine?" His hold relaxed with the words,
and instantly she sprang away from him--sprang like a fleeing bird upon
the low parapet beside them, and in a second was sliding out upon the
narrow ledge that surrounded the great stone buttress of the turret.
"Hell!" ejaculated Saltash, and gave a great leap as if he would pursue
her, then with abrupt effort checked himself.
He stood with one foot on the parapet, and watched her, and in the vague
starlight his eyes burned with the old mocking devilry behind which he
had so long sheltered his soul.
"So you think you'll get away from me that way, do you?" he said, and
laughed his gibing laugh. "Well, you may try. Either stay there till
you've had enough--or throw yourself over! I'll get you in any case."
She came to a stand, her hands spread out on each side of her, her eyes
turning back to him across the awful space that yawned between.
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