“And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over. . ’ Hilary’s brows shot up. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. " Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which, luckily for the individual against whom it was aimed, flashed in the pan. “Cheveney!” she repeated. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him.
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