"Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. “You poor little girl!” he cried. "What's the matter, father!" continued the new-comer, addressing Wood. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. Can you kill yourself?” He asked quietly. " A shadow, which was not cast by the jib, fell upon them both. I figured it would hurt your feelings if you knew I still talked to him, so I kept my mouth shut. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. ” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun.
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