Jinnie obediently followed him into the inner room. Morse slammed the door with his foot.
"Where's the letter?" he growled between his teeth.
Jinnie went to the table, got the original draft and handed it over.
"Here it is," she said slowly.
He glanced over the paper.
"Why, this is the one we left here yesterday, isn't it?"
"Yes!"
"Where is the one you wrote? I don't want this."
A glint of understanding flashed upon him.
"Where is the other?" he demanded once more.
"I haven't written it and I don't intend to."
For one single instant Morse's mind swept over the sacrifices she had made. She had done every single thing he had told her, not for her sake but for others. He shuddered when he thought of the trouble he would have had with her had not the blind boy been within his power also.
"Get the paper and write it now," he said ominously.
"I will not!"
She meant the words, a righteous indignation flaming her face, making her eyes shine no longer blue, but opal color. Morse wondered dully if she could and would stand out against what he would be forced to do.
"I see," he began shiftily. "I have to teach you a lesson every time I come here, eh?"
"This time you won't," she flashed at him.
"This time I will," he taunted.
"I'd rather be dead," she faltered. "I'd rather be dead than write it."
"Perhaps! But would you rather have----" he made a backward jerk of his thumb toward the other room--"him dead?"
Jinnie's eyes misted in agony, but Theodore was still near her in spirit, and she remembered the dear hours they had spent together and how much she loved him. A sudden swift passion shook her as his kisses lived warm again upon her face. That letter she would not write. But as she made this decision for the hundredth time that day, Morse's words recurred to her. Would she rather have Bobbie dead? Yes, if she were dead too. But life was so hard to part with! She was so strong. How many times she had prayed of late to die! But every morning found her woefully and more miserably alive than the one before.
"I understand you'd rather, then," drawled Morse.
Jinnie shook her head.
"I don't know what I'd rather have, only I can't write the letter." She made one rapid step toward him--"I know," she went on feverishly, "I won't ever see Theodore again----"
Morse's emphatic nod broke off her words, but she went on courageously. "I don't expect to, but I love him. Can't you see that?"