Never sent for the shirt. "'Sdeath! why am I not obeyed?" exclaimed the knight, angrily. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he neither saw nor heard. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood. . The lines about his mouth gradually softened. "I will at once convince you of the truth of my assertions, and ascertain whether the enemy really is at hand. I'm no mollycoddle. In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers before the sufferer could be rescued. Playing became a way of escape. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her.
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