” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. ” He paused. . He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. CHAPTER XVII. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. ‘To me, quickly!’ There was a brief hush, and then the shouts resumed and several pairs of feet clattered towards her from, as it seemed, several directions. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. She struggled against it quite uselessly. " And seizing her by the hair, he pulled back her head, and drew the knife with all his force across her throat.
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