Red Masquerade by Louis Joseph Vance
page 48 of 287 (16%)
page 48 of 287 (16%)
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He moved still nearer. She became conscious of his nearness as if a
palpable aura of vileness emanated from his person. "Then give me proof--here and now." "How?" He laughed a throaty, evil laugh. "Need you ask? Not much, my Sofia ... only a little ... something on account..." Suddenly she could no more: memories unspeakable rose like disturbed dregs to the surface of her consciousness. Involuntarily, not knowing what she did, she flung out an arm and struck down his hands. "You--leper!" The epithet was like a knout cutting through the decayed fibre of the man and raising a livid welt on his diseased soul. Galled beyond endurance, his countenance convulsed with fury, he struck wickedly; and the vicious blow of his open palm across her mouth brought flecks of blood to the lips as her teeth cut into the tender flesh. It did far more, it shattered at one stroke the brittle casing of self-command with which centuries of civilization had sought to veneer the Slav. In a trice a woman whose existence neither of them had suspected was revealed, a fury incarnate flew at the dismayed prince, clawing, tearing, raining blows upon his face and bosom. Overcome by surprise, blinded, dazed, staggered, he gave ground, stumbled, caught at a chair to steady himself. As abruptly as it had begun, the assault ceased. Panting and frantic, the |
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