" There was a pause. Mr. ” “Some little tiff?” “No; but I don’t think I shall see them. He came to her and stood before her, waiting, the morning light dazzling his eyes. Wood, "it may be poisoned. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. You are my prisoner, murderer. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. She twisted her fingers tightly. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again.
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