She divined instantly that he intended to force her against one of the
walls and thus corner her, and she opposed her strength to his, pushing
with all her power against the table in an effort to retard its advance.
It was to no purpose, for he was a strong man and his passions were
aroused, and in spite of her brave struggle the table continued to move
and she to retreat before it.
"Oh!" she said, in a panic of fear and dread, her face flushed, her
eyes wide and bright, her breath coming in great panting sobs; "Oh! you
beast! You beast!"
He did not answer. His eyes were burning with a wanton fire, they
glowed with the fierce, fell purpose of animal desire; he breathed
shrilly, rapidly, gaspingly, though the strength that he had been
compelled to use to overmatch hers had not been great.
She did not succeed in retarding the advance of the table, but she did
succeed in directing its course a little, so that instead of backing
her against the wall, as he no doubt intended to do, she brought up
finally against the stove in the corner.
There was a fire in the stove--she had kept it going to keep Calumet's
supper warm--and when she felt her body against it she reached around
and secured a flat iron. The handle burned her hand, but she lifted it
and hurled it with all her force at his head.
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