It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. Cocking the gun. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. Her heartbeat raced, her limbs turned to water, and it was only by a miracle and the strength of the arms that held her that she remained standing on her feet. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. They are horrible. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. ” “Oh. ” He started back as though he had been shot.
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