Her voice died away. The lie would not come forth in the presence of this dying wretch. "You thought she would be jealous. Ah, no, madame." Demetrius paused and clucked again like a brooding hen. "She permits you to kiss me with a last kiss." "No!" Leah half rose, and fell again, recoiling with a cry of terror at the prospect of setting the final seal on her treachery, as did Judas in the Garden. "I beg of you, my first love. One kiss to dismiss me into the silence--to close my mouth for ever and ever." So he did doubt her; he did not believe. All her lies were discounted; all his conversation was merely ironical and make-believe. He held her in a vice, and release would come only when she submitted to a revolting caress. "I will not--I dare not," she stammered, shrinking against the wall in an agony of physical fear from an object which a guilty imagination revealed as loathsome to sight and touch; "you--you have no right to----" "The right of love," said the weary voice. "You have no proof." "The cypher letters"; and a lean hand held out a packet, drawn from under the discoloured blankets. "For one kiss, madame--for one kiss." "Ugh!" groaned Leah, and snatched eagerly. Packet and hand disappeared swiftly, and the voice whistled in a jeering manner. "One kiss, madame, one kiss." She still fought. "My mouth is sore. I am----" "One kiss--one kiss--the last and the best; or--or----" Leah, writhing against the wall, gasped soundlessly. In that last word there was the sound of a terrible threat. It was the knell of respectability, of ease and luxury, and of all that makes life worth living. A single caress would buy the evidence; a touch of her mouth, and she would be free for ever and ever and ever. "One kiss, then," she muttered; and with all her soul crying strenuously against the horror, she tottered forward. "One"; her lips sought the place where a mouth might be supposed to be waiting. Two arms flew up and gripped her. She could not scream, for the arms dragged her down, belted her like iron bands. Her mouth was on his, his lips were on hers. She writhed, silent and agonised, in the horrible caress, in the abominable embrace, trying to free herself in vain. Demetrius placed his lean hand on the back of her head and absolutely ground her mouth against his own. She could feel the wounds break and bleed, sanctifying the kiss of Judas. His arms relaxed, she flung backward, and the long-withheld scream broke forth shrill and vehement. As if in answer to that terrible summons, Katinka tore open the door and entered with a smoky paraffin lamp. With one hand the girl thrust the shaking, sobbing woman forward, with the other held the lamp towards the face peering out of the blankets. "Oh, my God!" shrieked Leah, and sprang from the cabin, pursued by the cackling of broken laughter.