There were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. My husband, he is cruel and wicked, and—and entirely undistinguished. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. "Auntie?" he cried. Wood; "that's the surest way!" "No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which he placed his back.
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