Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. He turned in at the club. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. No! I do not even know that he cares for me. If they become bad it is through inclination, not necessity. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-gown of light material, and stood near the corner where the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite out of sight of all the party, except Mrs.
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