Hands Stronger Than Waldstricker's

Tess stood with swift-coming breath, her back to the door, waiting. Frederick must leave before she dared speak to Andy. It seemed an eternity ere the sound of the retreating footsteps died away, and she knew he was gone.

Then she started across the room, haltingly. Strange, how difficult it was to walk, and how giddy her head felt! What was it that had happened? What was going to happen a thousand times worse? Frederick's brutality left her bruised and broken. His threats twisted themselves through the tangled tumult of her thoughts and his sinister suggestions stunned and stupefied her.

Frederick had come and gone! She remembered that. Her skin still burned where his hot lips had touched her. He had told her he loved her, had begged her to say she loved him! Love? Yes, she had loved him--she did love him, but her love lay low, its structure, like a squatter's hut, she had seen, shattered on the sand by a storm.

Tess put a stick of wood in the stove, and a second later forgot she'd done it.

Ebenezer Waldstricker came into her mind vaguely ... vindictive and violent. Her hand went suddenly to her face. He was going to send her to a reform school, going to take her from the shanty for years! How powerful he was! Frederick had said Waldstricker's hands were stronger than God's. What strong hands he must have--those hands descending upon her defenseless, desolate life.