" "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart.
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