She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Sheppard, passionately,—"he has my boundless gratitude, and devotion. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila. Where can I get one?" asked O'Higgins. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence.
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