” “The real, identical other,” said Capes, and took and bit the tip of her little finger. " "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. Many other expedients occurred to her; but after making several ineffectual attempts to get into the Mint unobserved, they were all abandoned. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “She’s been up to no good, Sheila. It may be useful to you. I’ve got nothing to do for a month but think.
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