“Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?” There was a brief silence. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. It has been purchased by blood!" "What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag. If he had eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. ‘It is in no way your affair, monsieur, and you will unhand me at once.
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