You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. He left his companion in the midst of a glowing eulogy of Bastien Leparge, and boldly intercepted his hostess as she moved from one group to join another. She received into her slack grasp the pistol and dagger, only half aware of taking them. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. The party resolved itself for Ann Veronica into a game in which she manoeuvred unostentatiously and finally unsuccessfully to avoid talking alone with this gentleman. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. You spoke just now of a youth whom Mr.
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