engulfed of a sudden by a vague yearning for something, somebody to lift her out of herself, to carry her off her feet so lately set in a path of blind passion.
Zang misread her yielding for something that was not. He bent and kissed her on the cheek, on the soft curve of her neck. Hilma flinched but did not draw away; nor did the man's hot caresses rouse in her any answering emotion. She accepted them because she did not have the will to resist any event of the moment.
"Now, Hilma," Zang was saying in a choked voice, as the girl automatically bathed his wounded hand from the basin set on the righted table—"now, Hilma girl, there 's nothin' left but for you to come back to the Spout with me. Here 's Original; all he 's got to do is to go back to Two Moons an' swear out a warrant for you an' a fresh one agin me—assault with a deadly weapon. All alone here, you 'll be caught an' sent to do a term down to Rawlins. In the Spout Original nor any posse he 's a mind to raise can't get you."
The girl steadily drained water over the red hole in the hand she held over the basin. She answered nothing.
