She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. ” A spot of colour flared in Anna’s cheek as she glanced towards the speaker. “I confess it. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. Ramage looked at her for a long and discriminating interval without speaking.
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