As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. Melusine ripped at the buttons of the garment, dragging it open and away, and gasped at the massive red stain on his shirt. It was neither good nor bad. In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. It’s an emerald. ’ She grimaced.
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