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And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. In all other respects they differed as materially. “I do not know you,” she said coldly. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. ” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee.
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