THE SILVER FOX 133 



with terrific completeness the hunted life, 

 the lonely act of deatli that had attained 

 such peace as this stillness might betoken. 



Tom Quin's black-and-grey dog moved 

 restlessly round the body of his master, 

 sniffing closely at the face, trying to turn 

 over with his nose the rigid hand that still 

 clutched a fragment of sodden reed, in that 

 dumb distress and fear of death that animals 

 must bear uncomforted. Slaney dragged her 

 eyes from the engrossing horror of it, and in 

 doing so met those of Lady Susan at the 

 far side of the group ; but nothing seemed 

 strange to her now, not even the white 

 fixity of Lady Susan's face, that told of a 

 plucky woman strongly moved. 



At that instant Maria Quin broke out of 

 the group and confronted Glasgow, eyes and 

 face and voice beyond all control or desire 

 of it, and repellent as human frenzy must 

 inevitably be. 



"If it wasn't for the way you had him 

 persecuted," she yelled, " he wouldn't be 

 thrown out there on the grass undher yer 



