Wood's," was the reply. ” The man contented himself with a nod. Melusine’s heart ached for him, but she had to force him on. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs. . They were going up the slope into Waterloo Station. When they were home, the pair headed for the Big Apple or the warmth of the Beck’s family table. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. They were both dressed in every respect alike.
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