” She relented. " "I can't. '" "No, we can't stand that," hiccupped Smith, scarcely able to keep his legs. Presently she was going through a swaying, noisy crowd, whose faces grinned and stared pitilessly in the light of the electric standards. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. A town called Foster.
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