Jane felt the shame then—not because he had shamed her, but because he was right. She had been careless with the trust of people who owed her nothing, and with the love of a man who owed her everything.
He turned and threw the locket into the dark river. It vanished without a sound. tarazan shame of jane
Jane Clayton stood at the edge of the clearing, her khaki shirt torn at the shoulder, a thin line of blood tracing her collarbone. She had defied him—not out of malice, but out of a desperate need to prove that the civilization she had once known still lived inside her. She had walked into the native village alone, trading her father’s old compass for a tarnished locket, a trinket of the world she had left behind. Jane felt the shame then—not because he had