From there he heard Sabina mutter: "I say, let's swear blood
bond. Where's your knife, Freda?" and out of the corner of his eye could
see each of them solemnly prick herself, squeeze out a drop of blood and
dabble on a bit of paper. He turned and made for the door.
"Don't be a stoat! Come back!" His arms were seized; imprisoned between
the little girls he was brought back to the table. On it lay a piece
of paper with an effigy drawn in blood, and the three names Stella
Halliday, Sabina Halliday, Freda Halliday--also in blood, running
towards it like the rays of a star. Sabina said:
"That's you. We shall have to kiss you, you know."
And Freda echoed:
"Oh! Blow--Yes!"
Before Ashurst could escape, some wettish hair dangled against his
face, something like a bite descended on his nose, he felt his left
arm pinched, and other teeth softly searching his cheek. Then he was
released, and Freda said:
"Now, Stella."
Ashurst, red and rigid, looked across the table at a red and rigid
Stella. Sabina giggled; Freda cried:
"Buck up--it spoils everything!"
A queer, ashamed eagerness shot through Ashurst: then he said quietly:
"Shut up, you little demons!"
Again Sabina giggled.
Pages:
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285