Through the first outward puff of smoke went these words: "The only
thing that's a woman about me is skirts. That's straight."
Yet he knew that his power was besieging her on every side. Her power
seemed gone, and she was like a rare flower in the hollow of his hand;
all that he had to do was to close his fingers, and--He despised himself
for it, but he could not resist. Moreover, he half counted on her pride
to make her break away.
"Then if it's hopeless, Sally Fortune, go now."
She answered, with an upward tilt of her chin: "Don't be a fool,
Anthony. If I can't be a woman to you, at least I can be a pal--the best
you've had in these parts. Nope, I'll see you through. Better saddle
now--"
"And start back for Drew?"
There was the thrust that made her start, as if the knife went through
tender flesh.
"Are you such a plumb fool as that?"
"Go now, Sally. I tell you, it's no use. I won't leave the trail of
Drew."
It was only the outward stretch of her arm, only the extension of her
hand, palm up, but it was as if her whole nature expanded toward him in
tenderness.
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