“Do something!” But he laid by his prey, half-watching the fight, gorging on the woman he had caught that had been meant for Rhea and her child. "I would treat him as you treated his father, Sir Rowland. Hastily, he reached for the door. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. He waved a cordial goodbye. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. He opened the drawer of the writing table.
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