Not once during the ceremony did the two look at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. "What the devil are you about! Will you allow yourself to be beaten by a couple of kids?" "Not if I can help it," returned Abraham, making a desperate effort to regain his feet. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in several places with blood. "I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping.
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