She was gazing at the _Ghost_.

I followed her gaze, but could see nothing unusual.

She looked at me, and I looked inquiry back.
"The shears," she said, and her voice trembled.
I had forgotten their existence.

I looked again, but could not see them.
"If he has--" I muttered savagely.
She put her hand sympathetically on mine, and said, "You will have to begin over again." "Oh, believe me, my anger means nothing; I could not hurt a fly," I smiled back bitterly.

"And the worst of it is, he knows it.