How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. " And she flung herself between them. Their small talk continued. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. " He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted across Spurlock's face. She attacked me with a carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand.
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