But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. She felt her canines grow, the hunger consuming her. "As like as life. It came to her that to marry any one but Capes was impossible. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. "Your business, Sir?" returned the other, stiffly. Marvel," remarked Shotbolt.
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