Pain sliced into Gerald’s hand and his sword arm jerked. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. He had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs. "The Beachcombers. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands.
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