” “I was late. Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. ” “You have no right at all,” she answered coldly. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. . The man’s passion was infectious. "Don't fire," cried the latter. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. She never forced the issue, it was their father’s job. She turned her head away sharply. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner.
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