Summary

Portrait of W. C. Morrow W. C. Morrow A Man: His Mark. A Romance

I will go to my old friend, and he will nurse me back to health and strength, and I will begin the fight again. I will be a man—always a man. I will do my duty. And the she-wolf—no, no, no! She will not tear out my heart with her claws and fangs. No! There is no she-wolf! I say, there is no she-wolf. No! She is kind to me. I know it, I know it! She is gentle and thoughtful and unselfish. She is very, very beautiful. She won’t leave me, will she? She won’t leave me alone! But she is unmanning me! I must not let her do that! I must be a man and do my duty.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of W. C. Morrow W. C. Morrow A Man: His Mark. A Romance

I wish you could have heard him say, ‘She’s dead, boys, she’s dead; and by God! they killed her.’ The sound of its agony would have found the heart that was intended to do more than keep you alive with its beating. Do you know what murder is? Do you know the difference between the gross, stupid, brutal murder that in satisfying its coarse lust for blood runs its thick neck into the halter, and the finer, daintier, infinitely more cruel murder that kills with torturing cruelty, and thus outwits the gallows? The blood-murderer is a poor fool, dwarfed in mind and crippled in soul.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of W. C. Morrow W. C. Morrow A Man: His Mark. A Romance

He had devoted weeks of arduous work to the construction of his hut, and that had lent a certain strength to his muscles and buoyancy to his soul. Still, he was hardly more than a shadow of his old self, before his life had been wrecked a year ago, and he had come into the mountains to make a sturdy fight for self-mastery, for the regeneration of whatever shreds of manhood were left within him, and for their patching and binding into a fabric that should take its place in the ranks of men and work out a man’s destiny.
Source: Gutenberg

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