He made one step toward her.
"Mine, Mollie; mine you have been, mine you will be for life.

The gods have willed it so, Mollie--my wife!" Another step nearer, triumphant, victorious, then Mollie lifted her arm with a queenly gesture and uttered one word: "Stop!" She was standing by the mantel, drawn up to her full height, her face whiter than snow, rigid as marble, but the blue eyes blazing blue flame.
"Back, Doctor Oleander! Not one step nearer if you value your life!" She put her hand in her bosom and drew out a glittering plaything--a curious dagger of foreign workmanship she had once taken from Carl Walraven.
"Before I left home, Doctor Oleander, I took this.

I did not expect to have to use it, but I took it.

Look at it; see its blue, keen glitter.
It is a pretty, little toy, but it proves you a false boaster and a liar! It leaves me one alternative--death!" "Mollie! For God's sake!" There was that in the girl's white, rigid face that frightened the strong man.

He recoiled and looked at the little flashing serpent with horror.
"I have listened to you, Doctor Guy Oleander," said Mollie Dane, slowly, solemnly; "now listen to me.