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"Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. ” Annabel gave a little gasp.
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