Mugridge's face was livid with fear at what he had done and at what he might expect sooner or later from the man he had stabbed.

But his demeanour toward me was more ferocious than ever.

In spite of his fear at the reckoning he must expect to pay for what he had done, he could see that it had been an object-lesson to me, and he became more domineering and exultant.

Also there was a lust in him, akin to madness, which had come with sight of the blood he had drawn.

He was beginning to see red in whatever direction he looked.