You vanished once
before and came back--they will set this down as a similar trick, and
not trouble themselves about you. You are mine, Mollie, mine--mine!
There is no alternative in the wide earth."
Dr. Oleander's face flashed with triumph, his voice rang out exultantly,
his form seemed to tower with victory, his eyes flashed like burning
coals. He made one step toward her.
"Mine, Mollie; mine you have been, mine you will be for life. The gods
have willed it so, Mollie--my wife!"
Another step nearer, triumphant, victorious, then Mollie lifted her arm
with a queenly gesture and uttered one word:
"Stop!"
She was standing by the mantel, drawn up to her full height, her face
whiter than snow, rigid as marble, but the blue eyes blazing blue flame.
"Back, Doctor Oleander! Not one step nearer if you value your life!" She
put her hand in her bosom and drew out a glittering plaything--a curious
dagger of foreign workmanship she had once taken from Carl Walraven.
"Before I left home, Doctor Oleander, I took this. I did not expect to
have to use it, but I took it.
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