"And how came they to be having a shooting party in March ?" Jane smiled a fierce smile into the moonlight.

Passionate love of animal life, intense regard for all life, even of the tiniest insect, was as much a religion with her as the worship of beauty was with Garth.

She never could pretend sorrow over these accounts of shooting accidents, or falls in the hunting-field.

When those who went out to inflict cruel pain were hurt themselves; when those who went forth to take eager, palpitating life, lost their own; it seemed to Jane a just retribution.

She felt no regret, and pretended none.