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" "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. "What say you to carrying her off, Captain?" suggested Blueskin. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence.
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