"I think," said the girl, a measure of control returning to her voice, "that you're a devil. You're some sort of a fiend that has managed to attach itself to Nick, and you're not human. That's what I think!" "Think what you please," said the other. "We're wasting time here," he said abruptly. "Come." "Where?" Pat was startled; she felt a recurrence of fright. "No matter where. Come." "I won't! Why do you want me?" "To complete the business of Saturday night," he said. "Your lips have healed; they bleed no longer, but that is easy to remedy. Come." "I won't!" exclaimed the girl in sudden panic. "I won't!" She moved as if to rise. "You forget," intoned the being beside her. "You forget the authority vested in me by virtue of this love of yours. Let me convince you." He stretched forth a thin hand. "Move and you condemn your sweetheart to the punishment you threaten me." He seized her arm, pinching the flesh brutally, his nails breaking the smooth skin. Pat felt her face turn ashy pale; she closed her eyes and bit her nearly-healed lips at the excruciating pain, but she made not the slightest sound nor the faintest movement. She simply sat and suffered. "You see!" sneered the other, releasing her. "Thank my kindly nature that I marked your arm instead of your face. Shall we go?" A scarcely audible whimper of pain came from the girl's lips. She sat palled and unmoving, with her eyes still closed. "No," she murmured faintly at last. "No. I won't go with you." "Shall I drag you?" "Yes. Drag me if you dare." His hand closed on her wrist; she felt herself jerked violently to her feet, so roughly that it wrenched her shoulder. A startled, frightened little cry broke from her lips, and then she closed them firmly at the sight of several by-passers turning curious eyes on them. "I'll come," she murmured. The glimmering of an idea had risen in her chaotic mind. She followed him in grim, bitter silence across the clipped turf to the limit of the park. She recognized Nick's modest automobile standing in the line of cars along the street; her companion, or captor, moved directly towards it, opened the door and clambered in without a single backward glance. He turned about and watched her as she paused with one diminutive foot on the running board, and rubbed her hand over her aching arm. "Get in!" he ordered coldly. She made no move. "I want to know where you intend to take me." "It doesn't matter. To a place where we can complete that unfinished experiment of ours. Aren't you happy at the prospect?" "Do you think," she said unsteadily, "that I'd consent to that even to save Nick from disgrace and punishment? Do you think I'm fool enough for that?" "We'll soon see." He extended his hand. "Scream--fight--struggle!" he jeered. "Call them down on your sweetheart!" He had closed his hand on her wrist; she jerked it convulsively from his grasp.