And there is a legend which says that once a wild beast has tasted the blood of man he will taste it a second time before he dies.

She thought of that--she dared not turn her head lest she should encounter the hellfire of Bart's eyes.

Yet she had passed all ordinary fear.

She had reached that exquisite frenzy of terror when it becomes one with courage.

The very arm over which the wolf's teeth were set moved--raised--and with both hands she untied the knot of the bandage.
The snarling rose to a pitch of maniacal rage; the teeth compressed--if they broke the skin it was the end; the first taste of blood would be enough!--and drew away her arm.