"I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. " At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. His voice had broken. It has become a part of the order of my life. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. Every one else does. The rest was easy.
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