"Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ” He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. White’s,” she said, “and if he is going to persist in this delusion, we cannot both remain here. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. “David,” she said, “you are not a coward, are you?” “I do not know,” he muttered.
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