If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. Sheppard, bitterly. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. He was as hard as a rock.
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