In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. "Yes, or no?" "I will make no terms with you," rejoined Wild, sternly.
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