Had she, then, killed him? She prayed so--with
all her heart she prayed it. To be freed from the menace of this
loathsome creature were relief indeed. During all the balance of
the night she lay there awake, listening. Below her, she imagined,
she could see the dead man with his hideous face bathed in the cold
light of the moon--lying there upon his back staring up at her.
She prayed that ja might come and drag it away, but all during
the remainder of the night she heard never another sound above the
drowsy hum of the jungle. She was glad that he was dead, but she
dreaded the gruesome ordeal that awaited her on the morrow, for
she must bury the thing that had been Erich Obergatz and live on
there above the shallow grave of the man she had slain.
She reproached herself for her weakness, repeating over and over
that she had killed in self-defense, that her act was justified;
but she was still a woman of today, and strong upon her were the
iron mandates of the social order from which she had sprung, its
interdictions and its superstitions.
At last came the tardy dawn. Slowly the sun topped the distant
mountains beyond Jad-in-lul. And yet she hesitated to loosen the
fastenings of her door and look out upon the thing below. But it
must be done. She steeled herself and untied the rawhide thong that
secured the barrier.
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