Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/41

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and rested his lips against her forehead. His helpless smile went to her heart. Full of gratitude and devotion, she raised herself on tip-toe to meet his height, pressed closely against him, and whispered:

"You know what I was thinking, dearest? As long as I'm caught anyway, let's put off an abortion. At least we can have a few weeks of peace. . ."

He drew her tenderly towards him and kissed her moist brow. The beads of sweat on his lips were like the drops of agony of a man nailed to the cross. . .

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