" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. I have always been lonely. She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive.
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