The touch of her eager fingers, the closeness of her body, the warmth of her breathing--he was beginning to hope that the effort might be prolonged interminably.
At last, after many despairing tugs, the knot relaxed.

"There!" she cried, sinking back exhausted.

"Oh, how it must have hurt you! Your wrists are raw!" He suppressed the tactless impulse to say that he preferred a rope on the wrists to one about his neck, realising that the jest could only shock and not amuse her under the present conditions.
His arms were stiff and sore and hung like lead at his sides.

She watched him, with narrowed eyes, while he stood off and tried to work blood and strength back into his muscles.
"Do you think you can--can do anything now, Mr.King ?" she asked, after a long interval.
He would not tell her how helpless he was, even with his hands free.

So he smiled bravely and sought to reassure her with the most imposing boasts he could utter.