Every inch of her bore the hall-mark of wealth. The ermine-lined
motoring-cloak, the broadcloth cut on simple lines of elegance, the
quality of her lingerie and of the hosiery which incased the wonderfully
small feet, all told of a padded existence from which the cares of life
had been excluded. The satin flesh he massaged, to renew the flow of the
dammed blood, was soft and tender like a babe's. Quite surely she was an
exotic, the last woman in the world fitted for the hardships of this
frontier country. She had none of the deep-breasted vitality of those of
her sex who have fought with grim nature and won. His experience told him
that a very little longer in the storm would have snuffed out the wick of
her life.
But he knew, too, that the danger was past. Faint tints of pink were
beginning to warm the cheeks that had been so deathly pallid. Already
crimson lips were offering a vivid contrast to the still, almost colorless
face.
For she was biting the little lips to try and keep back the cries of pain
that returning life wrung from her. Big tears coursed down her cheeks, and
broken sobs caught her breath.
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