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290 and she stood together against a common enemy. She was asking herself if she could say what Joe Embry wanted her to say?

And then his hand, the most beautiful man's hand she had ever seen, touched hers … and through her whole being ran that swift, uncontrollable shudder that was almost … no, not almost, now that it touched her, but positively loathing. … Never had he touched her before as he was touching her now; never could she let him so touch her again.

"No!" she cried sharply, drawing back, staring at him with frightened eyes. For she was afraid, of what she did not definitely know. "No. I thank you, Mr. Embry; I appreciate what your offer means; I am sorry. But I can only say now what I should have said long ago; no." And then, her breast tumultuous with a conflict of emotions into which entered a burning, passionate anger at Bill Steele, she did what she had never done before in her life: she whirled and ran from a mere man like a flustered school girl.

"Bill Steele," she cried out when in her own room, "I hate you, hate you, hate you! And Joe Embry … if you ever dare touch me again …" She broke off with a shiver.