” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. On this elevation a table was now placed, around which sat the turnkeys and their guests, regaling themselves on the fragrant beverage provided by the prisoner. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. There was a pause, while the steel grey eyes sliced at her. It could not go on much longer, her luck. The action did not pass unnoticed by Sheppard. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. What has been the matter?” “Toothache,” he answered laconically.
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