Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pew where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds, which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. Her lips parted, but no words came. “But, forgive me, you are tired.
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