Return to him, I say—" "I can't," replied Jack, doggedly. " "I am acquainted with Mr. ‘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. In the struggle, Mrs. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. Or, if this goodlooking young fellow will only say the word, I'll go with him. ’ ‘Bravo,’ applauded Lucilla, clapping her hands.
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