“What a little liar you are! Well, then, two can play at the same game. I lied to you about your lover there. I said there was nothing could save him. Yes, yes, Claire, my dear, I lied.” He knelt suddenly, and suddenly intent and professional studied John Bruce's face, and felt again for the pulse beat at John Bruce's wrist. “Pretty near the limit,” he stated coolly. “Internal bleeding.” He threw back his shoulders in a strangely egotistical way. “Not many men could do anything; but I, Sydney Angus Crang, could! Ha, ha! In ten minutes he could be on the road to recovery--but ten minutes, otherwise, is exactly the length of time he has to live.” An instant Claire Veniza stared at him. Her mind reeled with chaos, with terror and dismay. “Then do something!” she implored wildly. “If you can save him, do it! You must! You shall!” “Why should I?” he demanded. His teeth were clamped hard together. “Why should I save your lover? No--damn him!” She drew away from him, and, suddenly, on her knees, buried her face in her hands and burst into sobs. “This--this is terrible--terrible!” she cried out. “Has that frightful stuff transformed you into an absolute fiend? Are you no longer even human?” Flushed, a curious look of hunger in his eyes, he gazed at her. “I'm devilishly human in some respects!” His voice rose, out of control. “I want you! I have wanted you from the day I saw you.” She shivered. Her hands felt suddenly icy as she pressed them against her face. “Thank God then,” she breathed, “for this, at least--that you will never get me!” “Won't I?” His voice rose higher, trembling with passion. “Won't I? By God, I will! The one thing in life I will have some way or another! You understand? I will! And do you think I would let _him_ stand in the way? You drive me mad, Claire, with those wonderful eyes of yours, with that hair, those lips, that throat----” “Stop!” She was on her feet, and in an instant had reached him, and with her hands upon his shoulders was shaking him fiercely with all her strength. “I hated you, despised you, loathed you before, but with that man dying here, you murderer, I----” Her voice trailed off, strangled, choked. He had caught her in his arms, his lips were upon hers. She struggled like a tigress. And as they lurched about the room he laughed in mad abandon. She wrenched herself free at last, and slipped and fell upon the floor. “Do you believe me now!” he panted. “I will have you! Neither this man nor any other will live to get you. His life is a snap of my fingers--so is any other life. It's you I want, and you I will have. And I'll tame you! Then I'll show you what love is.”