Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. ” He looked at her thoughtfully. "I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. ” “That’s the comfort of you. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. I am the cause of his ill-usage. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. " And, as if to make the moral more obvious, a dirty pack of cards was scattered, underneath, upon the sawdust. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name.
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