Clotilde pried Fritz from Lucy’s left leg where he was clinging. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive. Wood will be here presently. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. She turned there and beckoned. It fell with a clatter to the floor. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought. You are much more like what I was then. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.
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