You are afraid of the warmth in your blood. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. Then Sheila noticed the stains. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Gentlemen,—Mr. Sheppard!" sighed Winifred, as she contemplated the beautiful wreck before her,—"Poor Mrs.
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